


Ascension

by otppurefuckingmagic



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Book Spoilers, Canon Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, I Blame Jon Bellion, M/M, Minor Character Death, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Potential show spoilers, Violence, War, new mythology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-11-13 16:48:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11189274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otppurefuckingmagic/pseuds/otppurefuckingmagic
Summary: When the greater demons find out Valentine has the Soul Sword, they rise up to destroy the one weapon that can destroy them. In the chaos that follows, Valentine escapes from the Clave, Asmodeus is killed, and Magnus is dragged into a Hell realm to take over his father’s throne.With Valentine in possession of two of the mortal instruments, Alec—heartbroken and vengeful—leads the fight against Valentine’s forces as he searches for some way to bring Magnus home. Then Valentine discovers the Mortal Cup can do something much more sinister and useful than he ever imagined.or“I love you” was their new beginning.Just not in the way either of them could have thought.(A canon divergent fic that takes place after S2E10 “By the Light of Dawn.” Potential show spoilers. Definite book spoilers. Canon universe but not canon compliant.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> alright, loves! new adventure here. this will be a 12 part fic with one chapter per week for 12 weeks (updating on wednesdays as long as everything goes to plan).
> 
> this is another fic experiment for me, so hold on. i've written weeks ahead already and this isn't going to be a fic that will explode out of control like *other* fics of mine that shall not be named. each chapter is gonna be quick and every word of each chapter is important. no long, lingering descriptions or soliloquies here.
> 
> there's gonna be violence, and battle, and angst, and i have no issue telling you right off the bat that magnus and alec will survive to the end and be together in the end. but they're the only ones i can guarantee that for.
> 
> so. on that note, you ready?

“It’s yet another beautiful day in Hell,” Magnus proclaimed with only a hint of irony. “How blood-thirsty are the demons today, Cat?”

Catarina, fresh off her morning rounds through the palace grounds, fluttered her fingers over the dirt stains on her dress, magicking them away. “They’re well-occupied.”

Magnus hummed. “And Madzie? How does our little contrarian’s garden grow?”

“She insisted on eating the first tomato that appeared on a vine. It wasn’t even fully ripe yet.”

He turned away from Cat and smiled. “She’s powerful.”

“And this realm has only made her stronger.”

Magnus’ smile dropped. There was only one overarching explanation for Madzie’s power shift. One he refused to explore.

Sensing his master’s distress, the hellhound at Magnus’ feet whined, pushing into Magnus’ side for attention.

“Shush, Damon. Where is your Pythias?”

The snake in question hissed from his spot wrapped around the jagged edges of the throne, his black and silver scales shimmering against the dulled and cracked wood. Magnus sensed Catarina’s full body shudder from all the way across the room.

“You hate the throne room and you’re lingering, Catarina,” he mused. “Is there something else we need to talk about?”

“Another warlock showed up today. The news is spreading that your realm is safe.”

Magnus nodded. That was good news. “And the Seelie Queen?”

“She allowed him through without question.”

“Good.” Magnus remained with his back to her, crossing his arms and staring out the windows at the vast wasteland in front of him. “Make sure any warlocks seeking asylum continue to be allowed inside. For now, this is the only place I can guarantee they won’t be killed by the Soul Sword.”

“This warlock…. He also brought news out of New York.”

Magnus clenched his jaw and ignored that she’d spoken at all, even though that would never stop Catarina.

“Just as you suspected, Valentine has resurfaced with the Cup,” she continued. “But he’s not just using it to build an army anymore—”

He whipped around, red pulses of magic flying off his fingertips. He inhaled a deep breath and reined his frustration back in before he destroyed another room of the palace. “He won’t be controlling any of my demons.”

Despite his momentary lapse, Catarina’s features were blank. She tucked a length of white hair behind her ear and nodded. “Your wards and chaos magic are holding. None of the demons from your realm have slipped through.”

He didn’t need her to tell him that. He could feel each of their dark existences like pins plunged into his skin, their emotional states and hunger digging deeper when they were restless, and sliding out to a constant, burning ache when they were under control. And since his first day here—what felt like years, not weeks ago—he hadn’t allowed any of them to be out of control. Seated on the throne of his father his magic was more powerful than it ever had been. “And they won’t.”

Magnus crossed the room and dropped onto the throne. Pythias slid across his shoulders and coiled loosely around his arm, tongue flicking at the orbs Magnus conjured for him.

“I know. But, Magnus…. There’s something else.”

Magnus gritted his teeth, fighting to hold his glamour. There had been a time when he’d shared everything with Catarina. He no longer did. “If it doesn’t concern my newfound kingdom, then I don’t want to hear it.”

Unafraid of him, even now, Catarina crossed her arms and widened her stance. “The Cup does create Shadowhunters of the mundanes who can withstand the transition, but Valentine’s been experimenting. He’s discovered that the Cup also works in reverse—it kills any Shadowhunter who drinks from it.”

He tapped his fingernails against the throne even as his stomach twisted. “And how does the inability of the Clave to protect their own concern me?”

“Valentine has Alec.”

Magnus’ blood ran cold.

 

****

 

On the floor in front of Alec, Victor convulsed, blood pouring out of his eye sockets, nose, and ears.

Valentine stood over Victor with a mad grin lighting up his face, snapping out observations that one of his men scrawled into a leather-bound book as another man circled around them, recording Victor’s gruesome death on the cell phone is his hand.

But Alec’s attention was on Luke, standing at Valentine’s side with his arms crossed and a blank look on his face.

Alec swallowed the bile building in his throat and ground his teeth together so hard they threatened to crack.

He didn’t bother struggling against the restraints around his wrists. Even if he’d had a seraph blade or his bow, he wouldn’t have attempted to run. To run showed fear, and he wasn’t going to give Valentine that satisfaction.

He already knew he was going to die.

Victor’s body twitched, the vividness of life draining from his face, and without any hesitation Valentine twisted to face Alec.

Alec met Valentine’s eyes and refused to look away.

At least it was him here—not Izzy, Max, Clary or any of the other hundreds of Shadowhunters in New York.

He hoped whatever pain his parabatai had to endure would be quick.

Jace would be strong enough to make it through.

Valentine shoved the Cup against Alec’s mouth and Alec instinctively clamped his lips shut—but there was no escape and he didn’t fear death. The golden liquid sloshed against his skin, and Alec opened his mouth, swallowing down the viscous, bitter fluid as he kept his eyes locked to Valentine’s.

“Ah, so you….” Valentine smirked. “You were the one running the Institute, not him. Too bad you chose the wrong side.”

Alec spat the liquid into Valentine’s face and Valentine reeled away, swinging his fist forward and sending Alec’s head snapping back. The lancing pain in his jaw was simple in comparison to the inferno scorching through his veins. His spine cracked as he bowed backwards, and still he kept his gaze on Valentine.

“A shame.” Valentine swiped his face clean with his sleeve. “You would’ve been a powerful warrior for my cause.”

Alec dug his nails into his palms and fought against the tightening of his throat. “Fuck you.”

His body racked with a harsh cough and his blood spattered across the warehouse floor.

Luke stepped forward then, his lips twisting into a grimace.

“And fuck you too,” Alec spat out.

His last thought was of Magnus—of soft lips, a strong jaw, and the fading reverberation of a voice he’d never hear say his name again—as the void of death swallowed him whole.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> week two! if you want to live tweet i'll be tracking #ascensionfic on twitter.
> 
> the body count stands at one so far--poor victor. or is it two...?

“…More warlocks have disappeared. The entire Downworld is going into hiding, but this….”

Alec fisted his hands in the soft material under his fingertips, trying to focus on Izzy’s voice, but it faded in and out with the ringing in his ears. There was a weight on his back crushing the air out of his lungs, intensifying the dizziness that washed over him when he tried to open his eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jace’s quiet voice came from next to him and a warm hand settled on the back of his head. “Don’t move, Alec. Just hold still.”

“Jace,” Alec rasped out. He gagged on the memory of swallowing the golden liquid that had turned his bones to ash. He dug his elbows into the mattress, struggling to sit up. But it wasn’t just the weight on his back keeping him down—his wrists were bound, his waist, and his legs—and yet there was a lightness to his limbs that made it feel like he could float away. Alec slumped face first into the pillow again, his head spinning.

“You gotta hold still, brother,” Jace begged. “I’m here, Alec.”

“We all are,” Izzy’s voice said from somewhere close, but Alec still couldn’t open his eyes without being overwhelmed with a dizzying rush. He didn’t understand what was happening. The bed dipped as Izzy leaned in. “Please, Alec. Just calm down.”

Alec pulled a gasping breath into his lungs and focused on the steadying presence of his brother and sister. He eased against the steel digging into his skin, and even though his eyes were still clamped tightly shut, a vision poured into his head of the room around him, details filling in like a painter taking a brush to canvas. Jace on his left, his hand resting on the back of Alec’s neck. Izzy on his right, her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, her elbows on the bed as she stared at Jace over Alec’s unmoving form. A thick blanket was pulled high over his back, his body a misshapen lump under the cover. Clary stood at the foot of the bed, her arms crossed and her brow creased in deep worry. And Luke—

Rage swept the fogginess from his head. He didn’t have to test his strength against the bonds to know they wouldn’t be able to hold him.

Alec snapped his eyes open and focused solely on Jace. “Why do you have me locked down? And why is that fucking traitor here?”

Jace’s eyes widened. “How did you—?”

Alec yanked on the chains and the metal screeched.

“Alec, don’t!” Izzy yelled.

“What. Is. He. Doing. Here?” Alec repeated through clenched teeth.

Jace calmly tipped his head and held Alec’s gaze. “You trust me, right?”

He felt Jace through his parabatai rune—a slinking anxiety that accompanied worry, not deception—but even if he hadn’t been able to, his answer would’ve been the same. “You know I do.”

Jace nodded. “Luke has something you need to hear before we can let you get up.”

“No,” Alec ground out. “He stood next to Valentine and watched him kill Victor, then didn’t do _anything_ when Valentine tried to kill me.”

“You’re right,” Luke admitted, stepping up behind Jace.

Alec pulled on his chains tighter and the lengths began to spread apart.

“But that’s not the whole story,” Clary rushed to add in.

Jace’s gaze bored into him. “Trust me, Alec.”

 _Trust_.

Jace had earned that right in sacrificing his freedom for Alec’s life. Even before that, he’d earned it in battle and sparring sessions, in endless conversations and shared moments of silent understanding. He’d been the one to activate the Soul Sword, but he’d also been the one to stand next to Magnus and Alec when the Downworlders and Shadowhunters united to fight against Valentine.

There was only one other person Alec trusted as much as Jace.

Alec clenched his jaw and let his hands drop to the bed, nodding.

“There’s no better way to tell you this, then to just jump into it, son,” Luke started. He set his hand on Jace’s shoulder and Jace stood up, giving his seat to Luke. “When you drank from the Cup, you ascended, just like a mundane would, but to a completely different level—a Shadowhunter who has joined the ranks of the angels.”

Alec’s head swam. _No_. “The Cup killed Aldertree. It’s killed _dozens_ of other Shadowhunters.” His throat burned. “It killed _me_.”

Luke gently shook his head. “Just like with the transition from mundane to Shadowhunter, there’s a high risk of the person not surviving—that’s why Valentine thought all the Cup was doing was killing Shadowhunters….”

“But he just hadn’t tried it on the right Shadowhunter yet,” Jace finished.

Alec swallowed roughly, eyes darting over their faces.

 _No_.

Jace shrugged. “You don’t have to believe any of us, but you have wings, Alec.”

A panicked bark of laughter escaped from his lungs. “It’s not possible. It’s just…not.”

“If I couldn’t see them with my own eyes”—Izzy shook her head—“I wouldn’t believe it either.”

Alec’s hands trembled as he ran them through his hair, the chains around his wrists clattering. It wasn’t possible. Just _wasn’t_. Jace sat down on the windowsill next to the bed and crossed his arms, tilting his head to look Alec in the eye.

Alec focused on his parabatai. He trusted Jace. He trusted him with his life. He trusted him to tell the _truth_. “No. It’s not possible.”

“I can feel it too, Alec,” Jace said. “Because of our rune. The crushing weight on your back and bones that feel like…adamas—light but unbreakable.” Jace swallowed thickly. “I know you could tear these steel chains to shreds just as easily as you could each one of us.”

Alec flinched. “I would never—”

“I know. But that doesn’t mean you _can’t_ ,” Jace said gently. “You have wings, Alec. And, fuck, I don’t know how else to explain that besides what Luke is telling us.”

Alec clenched his teeth and glared at Luke. “You knew this would happen to me when I drank from the Cup?”

“I knew Aldertree wouldn’t survive, but you? My mother told me about legends, stories passed down through generations of the Iron Sisters that spoke of Shadowhunters drinking from the Cup and ascending another level, and you…. You were the only Shadowhunter I knew who would not only be strong enough to survive the transition, but worthy of that gift.” Luke glanced at the slack jaws around him. He shrugged. “No offense.”

Alec was just as slack-jawed, but for a completely different reason. “You bet my life on a _bedtime story_? How sure were you?”

Luke leaned forward and steepled his fingers. “I was right.”

“Unlock me.”

Jace shook his head. “Alec, we don’t know—”

Alec wrenched his hands up until the chains were taut, straining. “These _won’t_ hold me, but me getting pissed enough to break them off wouldn’t be good for _anyone_ in here.”

Clary clapped her hands over her mouth, and a deathly silence fell over the room.

Alec clenched his hands into fists and pulled deep breaths into his chest.

The legs of the chair scratched against the floor as Luke pushed back. “I think you may want to take this one, Jace.”

Jace pushed off the sill and slid his stele from his pocket, leaning over Alec. “Your eyes just glowed gold.”

Fear thrummed through his parabatai rune, and the understanding that Jace was scared of _him_ made his gut twist painfully. He could harm them, but he wouldn’t…. Would he? Alec opened his mouth to speak but let the words die on his tongue. He couldn’t make a promise he didn’t know if he could keep.

The chains dropped to the mattress with a heavy thud one by one, freeing him, but he…. He was frightened to move. “What happened to Valentine?”

“We don’t know,” Jace answered. “The entire warehouse collapsed when Luke dragged you out of there, but when we went back there weren’t any bodies. The Cup and the Sword are missing too.”

“And Magnus?”

Jace ran his fingers through his hair and looked to Izzy. She shook her head. “As far as we know, he’s still trapped in Edom because of the confinement curse. We haven’t heard from him.”

Magnus had told him to go after the Cup. That is was the only way to break the curse that imprisoned him in Edom. But Magnus never— _never_ —would’ve done that knowing he was putting Alec’s life in danger. He registered the guilt etched deeply into Luke’s features, and understood….

“You used Magnus to get me to that warehouse!” Alec yelled, anger ripping through him without thought.

There was a snapping sound and a whoosh of air, and Luke reeled back against the wall, retreating from the full spread of white wings tipped in gold.

“You said you would do anything to get him out,” Luke rasped, his palms facing Alec in surrender. “I took you at your word, just like I always have. I’m sorry, Alec. If I could’ve given you the choice before Valentine had you, I would have.”

Alec sucked in a panicked breath and the wings retracted. He wouldn’t harm them. He _wouldn’t_.

“Then why isn’t he here now?” Alec gritted out.

“I don’t know. I didn’t tell him what could happen to you because I knew he’d never agree to you risking your life for him. But I knew you would survive, and Magnus was already so sure that all you had to do was get the Cup—”

Alec’s stomach sank. “You saw him?”

“In Edom,” Luke admitted. “The Seelie Queen allowed me into his realm so he could help me track Valentine and the Cup…. I don’t know why it didn’t work.”

“You knew _this_ would happen,” he spat out and his wings reflexively flexed.

Alec scrubbed his hands over his face. His emotions were all over the place—completely unhinged—and if he didn’t get them under control he was going to harm the people he loved without meaning to.

He needed answers to do that, though.

He needed _Magnus_.

Alec sighed. “I have to figure out how to get him out of Edom.”

“Yeah,” Jace said calmly. “I think you need to figure out how the fuck to use _those_ first.”

No matter how calm Jace looked and sounded, he wasn’t. Alec’s heart felt like it was beating out of his chest, but the thudding sensation was off—distant and untethered to the tick of his own pulse in his wrist because the racing heartbeat was Jace’s, not his. Alec had never been able to feel Jace—physically _and_ emotionally—this clearly before.

He glanced at where Jace’s parabatai rune would be. “What is going on with our bond?”

Jace crossed his arms again and pursed his lips. His heartbeat didn’t slow.

“What? What is it?”

“Show him, Jace,” Clary said.

“He needs to know,” Izzy added.

Jace’s brow furrowed and he lifted his shirt, revealing his rune—now etched in gold.

“What—” Alec’s head pounded. “What the fuck does _that_ mean?”

“We have no idea,” Jace admitted. He glanced around the room, and Izzy, Clary, and Luke each nodded at him. “And until we do, no one but us can know that you’re still alive.”

 

****

 

“Alec is dead.”

The floor around the throne fissured, cracks snaking toward Catarina’s feet. Magnus’ magic boiled hot under his skin, the pinprick imprints of each of his demons pushing closer to the palace, closing in, as they sensed the seismic shift of their master and approached in a frenzied rush to consume his pain.

“I need you to leave, Catarina.”

His voice was calm, even. But his magic rumbled like a hurricane crashing against an unprotected shore.

“Magnus, listen to my voice. Let me—”

“Now, Cat!”

His snarl echoed throughout the room and plumes of fire wrapped around him, bathing his view of Catarina in a haze of red. The floor splintered beneath Catarina’s feet and she defiantly tipped up her chin. “I won’t.”

Magnus gritted his teeth and snapped his fingers, opening a portal and flinging her through to the safety of the garden with a flick of his wrist.

Catarina’s voice sliced through his head— _Alec is dead_ —and the floor around the throne began to singe, crackle, and buckle. Hell was coming alive in his veins and the world around him was destined to burn if he couldn’t control the flames licking against his bones.

Magnus inhaled a shuddering breath of sulphuric smoke and forced himself to stand, trails of fire snapping in his wake. “Damon and Pythias, stay.” His hellhound and snake retreated to their places next to the throne and Magnus flung open a portal, dropping himself beyond the edges of the city.

As the portal collapsed under his fingertips, he was met with deafening silence.

It had only been weeks since Alec had descended the stairs of the Institute in an anxious flight, confessing his love for Magnus. Weeks since Valentine had escaped the Clave, igniting a war that the Greater Demons had been more than willing to wage in a desperate grab for the Soul Sword. He and Alec had fought together—back to back—in a violent, bloody battle to end Valentine’s reign of terror, but in the end, Asmodeus had been vanquished instead of Valentine, and Magnus had been propelled here—forced by his own blood to take over the throne he’d never wanted. It had been twenty-seven days since his life had changed irrevocably, three days since his last letter from Alec….

And only one day since Magnus’ reply had sent Alec to his death.

Magnus sagged to the ground, his hands sinking into the barren sand. There had been life in this realm once, but it had been his father who had drained the humanity from it, and it was Magnus’ destiny to bleed it even drier.

Just as he’d done to Alec.

Magnus’ magic—a pulsing red of anger and hatred—blackened the earth around him. He fed his sorrow to the demons who descended upon him, snarling and clawing at his body. He slumped over and allowed them to tear at his skin until his magic flowed out in crimson surges that matched each frantic thump of his heart, soaking the ground in his blood.

Even now, though, he couldn’t drop his glamour. Couldn’t give in to what he’d become. The demons’ screeches filled his ears and his head, a cacophonous madness that couldn't begin to drown out his guilt.

“Magnus, stop!”

The demons keened as they were flung off his body, claws raking over his skin in a futile attempt to hold on.

Magnus heaved in ragged breaths, his windpipe abraded by sand.

“Alec is dead, Magnus,” Catarina said, her voice just as gentle as her healing magic that washed over him. “But we’re still here. The Clave has failed him _and_ us. If you die, you leave the rest of us unprotected—me, Dot, Madzie, and all the other warlocks under your care.”

Magnus swiped at the tears spilling from his eyes and shook his head. He couldn’t tell her the full truth, but he could tell her this much. “If I don’t learn how to control my magic here, I’m going to kill you all anyway.”

Catarina sighed, and Madzie stepped out from behind her, unafraid.

Magnus winced. “Keep her back, Cat.” He couldn’t be responsible for her death too. “I can’t be trusted.”

“You can be,” Catarina stated. “With training, you will learn.”

“There’s more to this than you can possibly understand,” Magnus replied.

Cat’s features softened and she set her hand on Madzie’s shoulder. “I may not be able to help you, but we both know she can.”

Magnus sucked in a shocked breath. He hadn’t realized Catarina had put together the pieces too.

“I can help,” Madzie said simply, extending her hand to Magnus.

He lifted his eyes to Madzie, feeling the thrum of her magic in his blood. Unlike the other warlocks filling the palace, though, her magic was lit with the same millennia-old power that permeated each of Magnus’ cells.

Power that came from their shared father.

Alec was gone, but if Magnus died too, he would leave all the warlocks under his protection vulnerable and it was possible that Madzie would be next in line for their father’s throne.

He couldn’t allow either of those things to happen.

Magnus took his sister’s hand and stood.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> week three. more answers. more questions?
> 
> make sure to check out [mundanelion's amazing fanart for this chapter](https://twitter.com/MundaneLion/status/879660936377884674) on twitter and give her some love. thank you for gracing this fic with your beautiful work, babe ♡ xx

Alec lunged forward with the seraph blade, his balance tipping with the weight of his wings. His leg muscles and abs burned with the effort to recenter his body, but it was too late—his blade had already sliced through Jace’s arm. The gaping wound poured blood onto the tiled floor and Jace stumbled back.

“Fuck. I’m sorry, Jace.”

Jace’s jaw flexed, but he remained silent. Alec had the ability to hear every curse word that was likely coursing through Jace’s head right now, but since he’d uncovered that ability he’d stayed out of Jace’s head. The sheer annoyance surging through his parabatai rune was enough to tell him what Jace was thinking anyway. He stepped forward and hovered his fingertip over Jace’s iratze, the wound sizzling and vanishing.

Jace heaved in a deep breath and shook out his arm, studying the unmarked skin. “That will definitely come in handy in battle.”

Alec ground his teeth together. “I wish Izzy would let me do the same thing for her.”

“She’s going to be fine, Alec,” Jace said as he picked up a clean towel and swiped the blood off his arm.

Alec frowned.

“Seriously. Luke says the yin fen addiction cycle will be completely broken in another day or two.”

Alec crossed his arms. “But I could wipe it all away now. I could’ve done that _weeks_ ago.”

“She didn’t want that. Deal with it.”

Alec grunted.

Jace pointed at Alec. “And stop doing that flashy gold-eyed thing at me when you get annoyed.” Alec rolled said eyes, and Jace whipped the blood-covered towel into the laundry pile that had accumulated through the morning. “We going again?”

Alec shook his head and swiped Jace’s blood off his blade, returning it to the stand, the golden runes fading to black again. “Later. You need to rest.”

“I’m good, Alec.”

Alec scoffed.

“My arm is good. No marks, see?”

Alec surveyed his parabatai and still couldn’t find any remnants from the dozens of times his blade had cut into Jace—every wound healed as if they had never been there, when the depth and severity of each cut would’ve left him in the infirmary for days even with the usual iratze, or, more likely, dead. “Fine. _I_ need to rest.”

Jace relented and sat down, swiping his sweat-soaked hair off his forehead. “Which means the pool or arrows?”

Alec unzipped the customized shirt and pants Clary had designed for him, stripped down to his underwear, and headed for the edge of the pool.

Just like swimming used to help him build up endurance, but he did it to calm himself now, picking up his bow was for fun—not increasing his skill. Every arrow hit his intended target without conscious thought. It was the one weapon he hadn’t needed to make any physical adjustments to accommodate since…. Since what?

It had been two weeks since he’d woken up to this new reality, and he was more confused about what he was than he’d been then.

Alec scowled, tucked his wings in, and dove into the water.

He pumped his wings and streaked toward the bottom of the pool, planting his feet on the scratchy concrete and pushing off again, twisting his body around by simply the power of his wings. It felt like flying, or what Alec had to assume it would, since he hadn’t had the guts to lift himself more than a few feet off the ground yet. With each powerful stroke his muscles eased and his head cleared, the water washing away the stress of the day from his skin and his mind.

Above him, two feet broke the surface of the water and Alec swung around, surfacing next to Jace.

“I can’t believe swimming is easier with those,” Jace said.

Alec smirked. “Like water off a duck’s back.”

Jace flipped him off. With both hands.

Alec chuckled and folded his arms on the pool edge. “Lunch after this?”

“Do you need to eat?”

“I don’t know,” Alec answered honestly, frowning. “I haven’t tested it. But I feel weird _not_ doing it.”

Jace pursed his lips and scowled. “And the emotional thing?”

_Shit_. He’d hoped they’d never have to have this conversation again, but after this morning he should have expected it. “I know my emotional…swings are tough on you. I just…. I can’t seem to find my equilibrium.”

“We’ll get there.”

Alec held his parabatai’s gaze, hoping he was right. The strength of Jace’s certainty flowed through his rune and Alec eased again. He looked away, glancing through the windows of what used to be some kind of office—in the abandoned school they’d taken over and promptly had glamoured—where Clary was hunched over a sketchbook, her red hair swept off her neck and her brow furrowed as she concentrated on the paper in front of her.

Alec rested his chin on his arms. “How’s Clary?”

Jace opened his mouth, then clacked it shut, clenching his jaw.

“Sucks that you can’t lie to me anymore, huh?”

“I’ve never lied to you.”

Alec tipped his head. “Skirted around the truth?”

“She broke up with Simon,” Jace responded, as usual answering only the question he wanted to. “She said that it was best because he couldn’t know about you, and she’s been spending so much time here, but….”

But the amount of time Jace and Clary spent together had become less about helping Alec in the last few weeks, and more about each other since Jace had confessed Valentine wasn’t his father. Alec felt the difference.

“I’m happy for you, Jace.” Alec pushed back from the edge and let his wings unfold to hold him steady. He bit back a smirk. “Don’t fuck it up.”

Jace slipped his legs out of the water, a mumbled _whatever_ passing over his lips as he headed for Clary.

A pang of jealousy tore through him at the unguarded smile Clary gave Jace when he shut the door to the room and took the seat next to her. Alec ripped his gaze away from them and floated on his back, cataloguing the cracks in the glass in the high-ceilinged room.

It wasn’t jealousy over the newness of their rekindled relationship per se. It was jealousy that both Jace and Clary were willing to push aside the chaos that surrounded them and push toward something bigger, more important—together. After everything he and Magnus had fought past to be with each other, he’d thought that maybe they’d gotten to that unbreakable point too. But it hadn’t ended up that way.

Since being dragged back to Edom, Magnus had only replied to one of the messages Alec had sent, and Alec hadn’t tried to get any kind of message to Magnus in weeks. His remote visions hadn’t been able to pierce through the warded confines of Edom, and his desperate need to have Magnus at his side had faded to a painful ache as he’d woken up to the reality of this new life.

He didn’t know how to explain what he’d become.

He didn’t know if Magnus would want him anymore even if he was free from Edom.

He didn’t know if Magnus would be safe with him.

Alec inhaled and arched into the water, enfolding his wings around him and exhaling slowly as he dropped toward the bottom. He ran his fingertips over the feathers—softness against his fingers and a muted sensation of touch rippling down his spine. He didn’t know what it would feel like to actually have someone else touch his wings. Even Jace—in combat training with him every day—avoided touching them. Maybe out of respect, more likely out of a complex mix of awe and fear.

None of them understood what exactly had happened to him, and full understanding seemed further and further away with every new power Alec uncovered—

Like the vision that popped into Alec’s head and had him rocketing to the surface again.

“Heads up,” Alec yelled out to Jace and Clary. “We have company.”

Alec lifted himself out of the pool and caught the towel Jace chucked at him.

The door to the poolroom screeched open on rusty bolts and Luke stuck his head inside, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s fine,” Alec said to Luke as he rubbed the water from his hair. “Let her in.”

Luke nodded, and shut the door behind him as Jace and Clary came to stand next to him.

“Who is it?” Clary asked.

But Alec didn’t have time to answer.

He lifted his eyes to the irate woman barreling through the door, restraining a wince when her normally clinical gaze locked onto his wings and she paled, her knees starting to give out.

Alec tossed the towel aside and shook the last of the water from his wings as he approached her. “Hi, Mom.”

 

****

 

Madzie sat cross-legged in front of Magnus, her palms facing him, and eyes closed. Around her, the barren sand shifted, a rippling along the surface that flowed out from her in waves.

“Can you feel it?” Madzie asked.

Magnus furrowed his brow and concentrated. “You’re not talking about the ground?”

“No.”

“I can.” Magnus hovered his hands in front of hers, experiencing the same tremors she did through his magic—like children riding bicycles side-by-side down a pitted road. But while Madzie’s intention was to smooth the way, Magnus’ magic cried out for him to destroy.

It was a primal, power-hungry urge that was counter to everything Magnus stood for, and he ground his teeth together as he tried to drive it back and sync his magic with hers. But the harder he tried, the more insistent the urge became, and anger coursed through him—a rush to anger that now overtook him without thought, seemingly unchecked in this world.

Before he lost complete control, he flinched away from Madzie. “It’s bubble time.”

Madzie’s eyes slammed open and she clasped her hands together, surrounding herself with a barrier even his magic wouldn’t be able to pierce.

Magnus eased knowing he could no longer harm her. “You’re getting faster at that.”

“I know.”

Magnus smiled and poked at the blue bubble, raising a tinkling laugh from her. Red sparks danced off the surface where Magnus touched, the tinge of Magnus’ magic no longer blue like hers—even when not in fight or flight.

Madzie held his gaze, calm. “Again?”

“Tomorrow.” Magnus tugged at one of her braids when her barrier dropped. “With you showing me the way, I may just get this right one of these days, sweetpea.”

Next to Madzie, Damon rolled onto his back and Madzie scratched at his sides.

Magnus glared at Pythias as he stood. “Protect.”

His snake hissed and coiled himself behind Madzie’s back.

Magnus crossed over the boundary between sand and the garden that Madzie was slowly—and against all overwhelming odds—bringing to life, and retreated to his room.

Heavily warded, his bedroom was the only place in the palace where he could let his guard slip. With the door locked tight behind him, Magnus unlaced his shirt and relinquished his glamour. He arched his back and unfurled his wings, stretching his arms above his head to ease the tension from his muscles. In the mirror, he examined the leather-like texture—black at the tips, fading into deep crimson, then gold—like the colors of a sunset he would never see again.

It had been weeks since he’d allowed his demons to attack him, and the claw marks were nearly healed, the bones and tendons of his wings stitching together again. Magnus stretched them wide, then snapped them back, satisfied that they would be just strong as they had been before.

In the days before Catarina and Madzie had joined him in Edom, Magnus had spent countless hours dropping off the top of the tallest buildings and rocketing toward the ground, learning how to twist himself in mid-flight. Now that they were here—and more warlocks appeared every day—he hadn’t flown in over a month. Every day now, his wings ached. The need to stretch them to their limits was palpable.

But Magnus’ mental limits were already stretched too thin.

He magicked a hot bath into existence and sat down on his bed, leaving his wings to drape off the end as steam curled around him and filled the room. Magnus inhaled deeply, dragging the lush, humid air into his lungs, and reached for the stack of letters on his nightstand.

The first letter from Alec had come only days after Magnus had disappeared from the battlefield—hand-delivered by Meliorn. With that letter his negotiations with the Seelies had begun, and the letters from Alec more frequent.

Magnus ran his fingertips over the only letter he had answered:

 

_Meliorn says there’s a way to break the confinement curse. Tell me what I have to do._

_\- Alec_

 

The ache in Magnus’ chest spread, the lines of Alec’s handwriting blurring as Magnus tried to catch his breath.

 

_Get the Mortal Cup_ , Magnus had replied. _Valentine will be in a warehouse in Maspeth tomorrow._

 

While Magnus had paid for that letter to be delivered with every enchanted object in his loft, Alec had paid for that information with his life. And there was no price now that would bring Alec back.

Magnus stared at the letter in disbelief. He’d known Alec for less than two months, and had fallen for him just as fast as he had so many others. But this loss—his Alexander…. There was no spell Catarina could cast to simply heal Magnus from the grief that ebbed and flowed even stronger than his magic.

He and Alec had now been apart longer than they’d been together, but he had learned over four hundred years that emotion and time were rarely measured on the same scale.

He set the letter aside and sagged forward, wrapping his wings around him to shut out all light.

A knock echoed through his room and Magnus was glamoured and dressed in a heartbeat. There was no time to mourn when you were a King of Hell.

Magnus snapped his fingers and the door opened. Dot stood in the archway, her hands in the pockets of her military jacket, hair loose around her shoulders.

Magnus beckoned her to enter. “I wondered if you were going to return.”

“I’m sorry I left,” Dot answered. “I had to see for myself.”

“And?”

“The Cup and the Sword are missing. So is Valentine. But I couldn’t find out anything else about…what happened.” Dot’s gaze dropped, and she twisted her hands, staring at them as if the answer could be found there. For a warlock, it usually was. “Clary wouldn’t even talk to me.”

Magnus clenched his jaw and waited her out.

Dot sighed and sat down on the edge of his dresser, finally meeting his eyes again. “I brought more warlocks with me—more are fleeing.”

“What do they expect Valentine to do now?”

Dot shook her head. “It’s not Valentine they’re afraid of. I talked to Iris—”

Magnus’ eyebrows shot up, and crimson sparks flew off his fingers. “Iris is in New York?”

“There are no warlocks willing to work with the Clave anymore,” Dot explained. “So they made an agreement with her—her freedom for her services. Don’t worry, Iris doesn’t want to come here—she wants to kill Valentine. She said to tell you she’s glad Madzie is with you, because she’ll be safe here.”

“She will be,” Magnus reassured Dot. He had no doubt of that now. As long as he was alive, Madzie couldn’t be harmed in this realm. And if the Seelie Queen was open to negotiations, it was possible he could save Madzie even if he died. “Where did you see Iris?”

“Maryse Lightwood has her working at the Institute…. And, Magnus…. The Clave has a weapon that may be more dangerous than either the Mortal Cup or the Soul Sword.”

A shiver raced up Magnus’ spine, his wings aching to unfold. “Show me your conversation with her.”

Dot nodded and placed her fingertips against Magnus’ cheek. Magnus felt his magic bubbling in his veins as the memory passed from her to him.

When she stepped back, fire trailed off her fingertips. But the fear etched into her high cheekbones and wide eyes had nothing to do with Magnus’ magic, manifested into flame.

“You heard what she said?”

Magnus nodded, that destructive power humming in his veins. “There is an angel in New York, and it has come to end all our lives.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the show may be taking a break next week, but i won't be. chapter four will be up next wednesday ♡ xx


	4. Chapter 4

Catarina swirled her hands over the walls of the throne room, warding it from anyone who attempted to listen from the other side of the locked door. Following behind her, Dot added an extra layer of wards to ensure complete privacy. The warlocks in the palace had only begun to settle into some sense of normality. Magnus wasn’t going to keep the news of the angel from them, but he needed more information before he decided how best to proceed for all of them.

Catarina’s brow furrowed in a deep crease, her blue skin paler than usual. “We’re all set.”

Magnus clenched his jaw. He couldn’t stand seeing her afraid.

If it had been anyone else in the throne room with him, he would’ve made this meeting a grand spectacle—a show of power and authority. For all their benefits, he conjured a couch and chairs in a corner of the room, flicking his wrist to add wine glasses and two bottles of one of the rare vintages from his wine cellar.

“Please,” he said as he offered them both glasses, “let’s all sit down, then you can tell us what you learned, Dorothea.”

Catarina accepted the glass with a thin smile and nestled her legs underneath her in one of the chairs. Dot drank deeply from her own glass before dropping onto one end of the couch, sighing, and Magnus refilled her glass before he picked up his own.

Dot smiled at his gesture and patted the seat next to her. “No one has seen the angel.”

“So how do we know it exists at all?” Magnus asked, settling in and sipping at his own glass. His blood warmed almost immediately. Oh how he’d missed small luxuries like this.

“We _don’t_ know,” Dot answered. “But Iris says Maryse is terrified. She overheard Maryse talking with a member of the Clave about whether or not the angel could be controlled. If the angel isn’t real, they’re all working a very detailed cover story.”

“What else was she able to tell you?” Cat asked.

Dot shook her head. “Not much. She only hears snippets of conversations since they’re watching her closely. We don’t have anyone inside the Institute anymore to provide us the real story.”

Jace, Clary, Isabelle….

Alec.

Magnus’ throat clenched. They’d relied on him for help in their darkest moments, but he’d also relied on them for knowledge of the inner workings of the Clave that he’d never be privy to. He’d considered Jace, Clary, and Isabelle as friends before he’d been trapped here, and since then only Alec had ever reached out to him.

Since Alec’s death, none of them had.

“The Downworlder rumor mill serves its purpose as an informal information network,” Magnus mused, pushing past thoughts of Alec, “but we need more reliable intel.”

“I’m assuming that kidnapping Maryse and stealing her memories would be frowned upon?” Cat asked with a smirk.

Magnus had to chuckle at that. “Don’t tempt me, darling.”

“There’s another option,” Dot offered as she glanced between Magnus and Cat. “Clary’s best friend, the Daylighter.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Simon?”

“I ran into him when I was looking for Clary. He asked how you are, and….” She set her glass down and dug into her pocket. “He gave me a vial of his grave dirt so you could summon him if you needed to. I think he would tell you things he wouldn’t tell me.”

Magnus accepted the vial, overwhelmed. “He offered this?”

Dot nodded.

Magnus held fast to the vial. It was possible his naive, talkative, vampiric protégé had no idea just how much trust he was putting in Magnus with this offering, but Magnus guessed that he did.

“It’s not just Simon and the warlocks that trust you, Magnus,” Dot added. “You’ve earned the respect of the entire Downworld.”

Magnus’ gaze flicked to hers, confused.

“I was approached by vampires, werewolves, and even one Seelie—all of them seeking refuge here. They know you can protect them.”

Catarina smiled over her glass. “A Prince of Hell who inspires awe and fear in the name of good, for once. I’ve heard the same thing from the warlocks.”

“ _King_ of Hell, Cat,” Magnus corrected her, pushing past her emotionally charged words with a quip.

Catarina—attuned to the self-aggrandizement he used to mask his doubt—lifted her glass. “You are much too royal to be a mere prince.”

Magnus breathed deeply. “I’ll find a way to ensure the Seelie Queen allows all Downworlders through without them having to make individual bargains. The next time you’re in New York, Dorothea, no one gets turned away.”

“Okay.”

“Now”—Magnus set his glass down and opened the vial—“let’s see what Simon can tell us.”

Magnus stood and stepped to the center of the room, the incantation to bring Simon to Edom slipping past his lips. He needed only a fraction of the dirt inside the tiny vial, and as soon as he whipped it into the air, Simon phased into existence, his back to Magnus.

Simon threw his hands up and he gripped his hair tightly. “What the hell—”

Magnus smirked. “ _Where_ in hell would be more appropriate.”

Simon stumbled to face him, a wide grin breaking out on his face.

“Magnus!” Simon exclaimed, careening into Magnus’ arms.

Magnus huffed and patted the vampire’s back. “Hello, Simon.”

A low growl rumbled next to Simon’s feet and he jumped away. “Oh my god, is that”—he leaned in, whispering—“a hellhound?”

Magnus snapped his fingers and Damon sat down on his haunches, eyeing Simon. “This is Damon. I also have a snake.”

Simon took another step back, holding up his hand. “Please tell me you’re not talking about your penis.”

Magnus rolled his eyes. He beckoned for Pythias and the snake appeared from the shadows, hissing as he wound around Simon and headed for the throne. “Pythias, meet Simon. He’s your brother. Sort of.”

Simon twisted, watching Pythias warily. “Now I kind of wish you were talking about your penis.”

“Simon, you know Dorothea, and this is Catarina.”

“Hey, guys,” Simon said, waving.

Cat smiled gently and waved back as Dot laughed softly.

“Come sit with us and have a drink,” Magnus said, conjuring a glass of blood onto the table. “While your presence alone is always a gift, we’re hoping you can tell us more about what’s happening in New York.”

“Yeah, um….” Simon took the chair across from Cat, and slammed back the shot. “About what exactly?”

“The angel.”

“Right. Well…. Clary broke up with me—” Simon cleared his throat at Magnus’ raised eyebrow. “That’s not the part that matters, but anyway, I was having dinner with my mom and sister one night after _that_ happened, or pretending to have dinner I guess, and when I was leaving my mom’s place I thought I saw Clary, and long story short, or short-ish as the case seems to be, Clary, Jace, and Izzy are staying in this abandoned school in the neighborhood we grew up in—with Luke, Maia, and the remnants of Luke’s pack from what I saw. So I got curious, naturally, and that’s when I heard the rumors about the angel.”

“We’ve heard them too,” Magnus confirmed. “And what does the Downworlder coffee klatch say?”

“A werewolf at the Hunter’s Moon said that the angel is—was?—a Shadowhunter. Someone who drank from the Cup and ascended, or something like that, after the Cup had already killed twenty-nine Shadowhunters—including Victor Aldertree, and…Alec.” Simon stilled. “I’m sorry, Magnus.”

Magnus ignored the unsteady thump of his heart. “Thank you, Simon.”

Simon shifted nervously, nodding and wiping his hands on his jeans. “Anyway, I think Jace, Clary, Izzy, and Luke are hiding the angel in that school. But the last time I tried to go there, some Shadowhunter stopped me…. He said his name was Sebastian…something. He sounded British, or English, or whatever, but his last name was French, I think? But the thing is, he told me that if I didn’t leave that he’d put a request in to the Clave for me to be added to the new database next.”

Magnus furrowed his brow. “New database? They already have files on all of us.”

“Yeah, so that struck me as weird too, right? And I started asking around, and apparently the Clave has kept it all pretty under wraps since the angel is the big drama of the day, but they’ve doing a census of Downworlders in New York.”

“That’s not uncommon,” Cat said. “Especially in times of unrest.”

“Sebastian told me they’d want my blood, though,” Simon replied, frowning. “And I heard the same thing from others. Downworlders who gave in because they were scared.”

Magnus’ magic bubbled up, demanding to break free. He clenched his teeth and caught Cat’s eyes. “They’re coming after the Downworlders. Using the threat of Valentine and the fear of this angel to compel participation and skirt the Accords. This is only the first step of an all-out attack.”

“It is a slippery slope,” Cat acknowledged, “and reason for great concern, but an attack?”

“You’ve lived through the same things I have, Cat.” Fire now danced off his fingertips and he had to fight to hold his glamour. “The Shadowhunters have been emboldened by this angel’s presence. They believe that they are righteous, not just right. And history does not bode well for any Downworlder in that scenario. I know you hate to think about it, but we have to be prepared.”

“Not just prepared,” Dot added. “If the Cup and the Sword end up in the Clave’s hands again, then who knows how they’ll use them now.”

Simon slumped forward. “New York feels a lot less safe than it did even months ago.”

It was unsafe for _all_ Downworlders now.

Magnus frowned. He had a great amount of work to do.

But first, “I know Edom doesn’t come with the lulling cacophony of the docks, but you can stay here, Simon.”

“Yeah, I’d…. I’d like that. I want to keep all of this as far away from my mom and sister as I can. Getting away from Raphael will be good too. Sleeping in something other than a canoe would just be a bonus.”

Magnus snapped his fingers. “I’ve conjured you up a room between mine and Dorothea’s. Dot, can you please show him there? And Cat, the warlocks need to know we’re going to be expecting more guests.”

Simon smiled at him. “Thank you, Magnus.”

Dot swiped away the wards and led Simon through the door, clicking it shut behind them.

When they were alone again, Cat looked up at him. “You’re going to need to speak to the warlocks yourself soon.”

Magnus nodded. “I will. But first I have to speak to the Seelie Queen.”

 

****

 

Alec sneered and untangled another tree branch from his wings. “I swear that the Seelies make passage into the Glade more difficult for guests who aren’t completely welcome.”

Leading them through the thick overgrowth, Luke glanced over his shoulder at Alec. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“The Queen allowed you into Edom without question and Meliorn was delivering my letters to Magnus. It was Meliorn who told me there was a way to break Magnus’ confinement curse, not Magnus. The Seelies are at the center of this somehow and we have to find out how and why.”

“We’re tipping our hand. Besides me and Maia, no other Downworlder has seen you yet.”

Alec clenched his jaw. “I can’t stay hidden forever.”

Behind him, Clary scoffed. “If your mom hadn’t freaked out and gone to the Clave, we could’ve kept you hidden even longer.”

“She’s doing the best she can with an Institute that has suffered major casualties,” Alec allowed. “And it was time. I had to get used to…everything, but now I need to learn how to live with it. No better time to do that than when the world is falling apart, right?”

“There’s the tragic fatalism that I’ve missed,” Clary said brightly. “It’s good to have you back.”

Alec let go of the tree branch he’d been holding and it whipped back toward Clary, but she just laughed and kept pace without even a stumble. Damn that training she was doing with Jace, she was getting faster and more agile.

“What were you saying about the Seelies, Luke?” Alec asked, bringing them back on task.

“Maybe you coming here is the right call. They won’t fight with us after the massacre in the Institute—they made that clear when the Greater Demons attacked—but maybe they’re just as scared as us about what Valentine can do with the Cup and the Sword, and your presence will be enough to start rebuilding trust.”

“Maybe.” Alec gritted his teeth. He doubted it would be that simple. “Even though Seelies can’t lie, they can’t be trusted. They’re going to be looking out for themselves first.”

“I’ve got your back, Alec,” Clary said. “Literally, right now.”

“I’m an angel for fuck’s sake, Fray.”

“Can _you_ create new runes?”

Alec rolled his eyes.

“I don’t like that we left Jace, Izzy, and Maia behind, though,” Clary said, her tone going serious.

He didn’t like it either. It was the first time he’d been separated from Jace since he’d woken up. But, “We needed them to pull us back if we get into trouble. Jace will know if something goes wrong.”

“Yeah, about that whole parabatai rune thing—”

“Alec Lightwood,” a voice called out from forest.

Alec turned toward the sound, cursing himself for not tuning his visions into the forest around them instead of solely the path ahead. Meliorn approached from their flank, clearing the brush away with sweeping movements of his hands and creating a space for all of them to stand.

Meliorn’s gaze ran over him. “You’ve changed.”

Alec clenched his jaw. “Are you taking us to the Queen?”

“The Queen is occupied. She sent me in her stead.”

Alec opened up his visions past the forest and into the heart of the Seelie Glade—where the Queen reclined on a stack of pillows watching faeries dance. “The Queen is lounging.”

“That does not mean she’s not occupied. What assistance do you seek? Access to another dimension, another realm or, perhaps…mail delivery?”

Alec ignored Meliorn’s unsubtle allusion to each of them seeking out the Seelies for help before. “We need answers.”

“I see.” Meliorn tilted his head. “You have cast your suspicions on us, but that is not where they should lie.”

“And you’re willing to tell us who we should be focused on?” Alec asked, dubious.

Meliorn nodded. “A feather from your wings for that answer.”

“No way,” Alec answered without thought. He didn’t have to think about it at all, though. He still wasn’t sure what he’d become, but he wasn’t offering a piece of _himself_ to be used in any way the Seelies wished.

“Very well then,” Meliorn replied, turning away.

Clary grabbed Meliorn’s arm, dragging him to a stop. “I’ll give you one drop of my blood for every question you answer. I have angel blood _and_ Valentine is my father. There are more possibilities with my blood than one of his feathers.”

“And more that can go wrong,” Luke spat out. “Have you lost your mind, Clary?”

“Luke is right,” Alec said. “This is a terrible idea.”

“And the only way we’re going to get answers,” Clary responded, her jaw set. “Do you accept, Meliorn?”

Meliorn nodded. “The questions must come from you and you alone.”

“Okay.” Clary snapped back her shoulders. “Valentine is already at the top of everyone’s list, and you say we shouldn’t be suspicious of the Seelies…. So outside of Valentine and the Seelies, who should we be suspicious of?”

“Magnus Bane.”

Disbelief twisted Alec’s stomach and he swayed on his feet. _Magnus?_

“Magnus?” Clary said, mirroring his thoughts. “But he—” Her brow furrowed. “What does Magnus have to do with—?”

Luke held up his hand, stopping her. “Be careful how you phrase this, Clary. Be _very_ clear.”

Clary nodded. “Why should we be suspicious of Magnus?”

“He’s been bargaining with us since he claimed his father’s throne. A demanding tenant of the land bordering ours who wishes for complete control over who can and cannot enter his realm—not just that he is free to come and go as he pleases.”

Alec inhaled deeply trying to make his heartbeat slow, but his parabatai rune was already flaring with a rush of anxiety from Jace. _It’s okay_ , he repeated in his head, forcing that thought out to Jace. It _wasn’t_ okay, but there was nothing Jace could do for him right now.

“But Magnus can’t leave Edom,” Alec insisted.

Meliorn arched an eyebrow. “Can’t he?”

“You told me there was a confinement curse _and_ a way to break it.”

“I did. But I never said that the curse applied to Magnus Bane.”

“What…?” Alec snapped out, his jaw clenched as he tried to balance this visceral communication with Jace and the Seelie standing in front of him. “What are you saying? That he can leave Edom anytime he wants?”

Meliorn remained silent.

“He won’t answer your question without a trade, Alec,” Clary pointed out, her voice warbled. “I think we have to assume Magnus can.”

Alec shook his head. “No. Magnus would never unnecessarily risk my life by sending me after the Cup when he could’ve done it on his own.”

Clary bit at her lip, tears gathering in her eyes. “Unless he cared more about getting the Cup than protecting you.”

“No. He wouldn’t do that, Clary. It’s not _him_.” Alec focused on Luke. “You saw him in Edom. He was _helping_ you.”

“But he never talked about anything besides Valentine and the Cup,” Luke said, shaking his head. “Not even you.”

Alec’s mouth gaped and his stomach tumbled. _No. It wasn’t possible. It just wasn’t—_ But he’d said the same thing about ascending. Had had the same reaction to his wings.

It hadn’t been possible.

Until it was.

Alec bit down on his lip. _It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay_ he repeated to Jace, but Jace’s anxiousness didn’t ebb.

Clary faced Meliorn again. “Why does he want the Mortal Instruments?”

“Are you sure that is the question you want to ask?”

Alec gritted his teeth together. If they didn’t end this soon, Jace would be storming the Glade. “Just fucking answer it.”

“The Sword can kill him just like it killed his father, so it is a threat. But the Mortal Cup controls demons, and he is now in command of a demon realm. Perhaps more than one demon realm if the rumors of Asmodeus’ power are to be believed. Regardless, the number of demons in Edom outnumbers the number of souls—mundane, Downworlder, _and_ Shadowhunter—in New York.”

Alec took a step toward Meliorn, crowding him back. “Are you saying he’s raising a demon army?”

“A feather for the answer to that question,” Meliorn answered calmly.

Clary sputtered. “Magnus wouldn’t—”

“You do not know what he has become, naive Shadowhunter,” Meliorn cut in. “If we are done now, that is three drops of blood for three questions.”

Clary outstretched her hand, grinding her teeth as Meliorn pricked her finger with a thorn and dropped her blood into a glass vial.

Meliorn faced Alec again as he corked the vial. “You have the advantage, Alec Lightwood. He doesn’t yet know that the angel he fears is you.”

Alec swallowed roughly. _The angel he fears_ ….

Because if anyone would lead an army into battle against demons, it would be an angel.

Alec sucked in a breath and snapped his wings tightly into place.

“I’ll give you this guidance for free,” Meliorn added. “The Queen is going to call a Downworlder Council meeting for here, tomorrow. I guarantee the warlock will be here too. You will see then.”


	5. Chapter 5

Magnus closed the door to Madzie’s room, leaving her to sift through the pile of ribbons he’d conjured for her and faced Catarina. “Meliorn delivered the contract to her yesterday,” Magnus said, his jaw set. “It’s done, Catarina.”

Catarina slumped against the wall. She shook her head, tears forming in her eyes. “When?”

“Whenever she wants it. I had to secure freedom of movement.”

“How can you be sure the Seelie Queen will honor your agreement? You will die when she comes to take her price, Magnus.”

Centuries worth of grief and pain weighed him down heavier than it ever had before, but he wouldn’t stop fighting until all warlocks were safe—a goal he was willing to give his life for.

He pulled back his shoulders and turned on his heel, heading for the throne room. “Maybe it’s time I did.”

“And Madzie?” Catarina asked as she caught up to him, refusing to let this conversation go.

“I’ve ensured she won’t suffer the same fate as me.”

“It’s an agreement with a _Seelie_ ,” Catarina said, yanking him to a stop. “How can you guarantee anything?”

That was a question Magnus wouldn’t answer, no matter how much he trusted her. He set his hands on her arms and met her eyes, his voice softening. “You already promised me you’d watch over Madzie. Now you’re going to promise me that no one will ever find out who she is. The two of you can protect each other.”

“I know we can. _That_ is not my problem. First Ragnor, now you? You can’t do this to me, Magnus.”

His throat tightened with the memory of him begging Ragnor to hold on, his hands slick with his oldest friend’s blood. He wouldn’t be swayed, though. “Promise me, Cat. Please.”

“Of course I’ll protect her identity. You know that. But—”

Magnus’ head whipped around at the thump of synchronized footsteps thundering up the stairs, anxiety curling through him.

Catarina’s eyes widened at the Seelie warriors who ascended the stairwell. “No, Magnus.” Her voice broke. “Not yet.”

“Not yet,” he confirmed. “We’ve convened a Downworlder meeting to address the new threat against us. We cannot win a war against Valentine _and_ an angel. The Downworld has to be united.”

“Go then. I’ll watch over Madzie.”

Meliorn clacked his spear against the floor, bringing his soldiers to a stop. “My Queen requests your presence.”

“So the confinement curse has been lifted?” Magnus asked.

“There is but one way to find out.”

Magnus rolled his eyes. Oh how he loathed dealing with Seelies. He leaned down to kiss Catarina on the forehead. “I’ll be back.”

Meliorn tilted his head as Magnus approached him. “A new lover already?”

“Your jealousy is showing, Seelie,” Magnus prodded, patting a scowling Meliorn on the cheek.

Magnus snapped his fingers, a portal opening in front of him—the swirling vortex remaining steady instead of collapsing like every other time he’d attempted to travel outside this realm. Without hesitation he stepped through, immediately assaulted with the sweetness of flowers and the damp nighttime air that pervaded the Seelie Glade. Fairy lights shimmered in the trees, bathing the meadow in a pearlescent glow. Beyond their meeting area, shadows and light played through the forest that surrounded them—not nearly enough illumination to discern who watched or listened from behind the natural veil.

Already seated at a round, living table made of ivy and twisting branches, Raphael met Magnus’ eyes, tipping his chin down in recognition. Meliorn passed through the portal behind Magnus, stationing himself next to his Queen without a word. Magnus bowed and the Seelie Queen smiled. “Welcome, King of Edom.”

“I suppose I need new business cards,” Magnus quipped. At the blank look on their faces, Magnus sighed. “Or perhaps to find compatriots who have a sense of humor.”

Luke emerged from the forest, his holster around his shoulders and his badge on his hip. His jaw flexed. “Magnus.”

Magnus stilled, narrowing his eyes at the carefully guarded greeting. While he and Luke weren’t exactly friends, he’d _saved_ Luke’s life. In the weeks before he’d been propelled to Hell, he and Luke had continued to work together. And up until two weeks ago, Luke had come to him over and over again for help tracking Valentine. Apparently Magnus wasn’t the only one who believed that he himself was responsible for Alec’s death.

Magnus stood taller, ensuring his glamour wouldn’t slip. “Lucien.”

Luke’s features closed off and Magnus pushed back the ache in this chest. There was nothing he could do for Alec now.

“Well”—Magnus clapped his hands together, pasting on a fake, bright smile—“Shall we get started then?”

“There’s one more…person we’re expecting,” the Queen announced. “Although by the commotion in the forest, I think he may have already arrived.”

A horde of pixies streamed out of the branches, screaming away from the meeting grounds in fright, followed by Seelie warriors, their spears pointed to the sky as they led Jace out of the trees. Magnus exhaled in relief to see him untouched, then realized that Jace scanned his surroundings yet avoided meeting Magnus’ eyes. A hush fell over the forest—a complete and unnatural silence—then an angel swept into the clearing and Magnus’ stomach dropped.

The rounded bend of his white wings towered over his head, his spine straight and shoulders snapped back so the golden-tipped feathers never touched the ground. He carried himself with a definitive air of authority, but that facade wasn’t new to Magnus—he’d seen Alec in command before.

“Alexander.”

He hadn’t realized he’d spoken out loud until he caught Jace’s grimace and the Queen’s wicked smile.

He’d explored every curve of Alec’s body with his hands, traced every rune with his fingertips, but the gold eyes that swept over Magnus—callously dismissing him—were unrecognizable.

Magnus swallowed hard.

Perhaps they had more to fear from this angel than Magnus had expected.

 

****

 

Alec’s heart beat madly as he forced himself not to look at Magnus. Despite Luke trying to convince him that the Seelie Queen was playing games with them, Magnus’ presence in the Glade was all the confirmation he needed that he’d been betrayed.

There had never been a confinement curse. Magnus had tried to use him to get to the Cup.

Alec braced himself with the calm surety thrumming through his parabatai rune from Jace and kept moving.

“I don’t recall granting permission for your parabatai to enter the Glade,” the Queen said to him. She eyed his bow. “Or allowing you to bring weapons.”

Alec snapped his wings together with a crack of air that echoed through the clearing. “I didn’t ask for your permission.”

A flood of anxiety rushed through his rune and Alec glanced over his shoulder at Jace, lifting an eyebrow.

“I think I’ll wait back there,” Jace said, hitching his thumb over his shoulder. “In the creepy forest.”

Alec nodded and Jace retreated into the trees.

“You’ve made your power play, Shadowhunter,” Raphael calmly said. “Now can we sit down and have a civil discussion?”

Alec tightened his fingers around the grip of his bow. “Civility went out the window when you drank my sister’s blood.”

Raphael sneered and fell silent.

“You may sit,” the Queen offered, sweeping her hand toward the chair next to her.

Alec bypassed the position she offered and claimed the chair at the side of the table directly in front of the Queen’s throne, folding his wings over his shoulders like a cloak. He held the Queen’s apprising gaze and waited for Luke and Magnus to join them.

The shock on Magnus’ face was now wiped away, replaced with cold detachment as he took the seat next to Alec without hesitation or fear. Alec had expected no less since Magnus always faced his adversaries head on. Luke eyed the remaining two seats—one next to the Queen and one next to Alec—and settled in at Alec’s side. It was an affront to the Queen to leave a position next to her unoccupied, and Meliorn quickly moved to fill that space.

The Queen’s fingers twitched and vines lifted from her throne, leaves dancing along her skin. “I believe we all know each other well enough to skip introductions.”

Magnus lifted an eyebrow, his glamoured eyes meeting Alec’s. “Do we?”

Alec clenched his jaw and didn’t reply. Despite his own changes, he wasn’t the one who needed to answer that question.

“This is not the time for your relationship issues, warlock,” Meliorn coolly replied.

“King of Edom.”

Luke huffed out a laugh and sat back, slinging his arm over the chair. “And yet you’re here—just like us—because you’re afraid.”

“I’m not afraid of Valentine.”

“He defeated your father,” Luke pointed out, glancing around the table. “Does anyone here know how that happened?”

Neither Alec nor Luke did, and Alec had hoped that someone would. The deafening silence lingered, though, and in the space between breaths he caught a minute flickering of the glamour over Magnus’ eyes. Deception? Guilt? He couldn’t pin down Magnus’ emotional state and inner motivations like he could with Jace, but there was history between them. Intimate moments shared when all of Magnus’ guards had been down. He may not have seen everything in Magnus, but he’d seen enough.

“It’s not Valentine he’s afraid of,” Alec stated. “It’s me.”

Magnus’ jaw flexed, the muscles tightening as he turned to Alec. “Your own mother fears you. Why shouldn’t we?”

Alec’s heart sped and his stomach rolled, but his anger of being deceived by the man he’d fallen in love with eclipsed all other emotion. He’d spent enough time in front of the mirror over the last two weeks to understand that his eyes would be an unnatural shade of molten gold when they locked to Magnus’. “I’ll protect anyone who doesn’t betray me.”

“That all sounds rather”—Magnus twisted his hand in the air casually, his glamour now firmly back in place—“dictatorial to me. The warlocks won’t bow to you.”

“Do you still speak for the warlocks in New York?”

“Seeing as most of them have fled to my realm because of your inability to protect them, yes I speak for them.”

“I’m not a _king_ ,” Alec retorted, throwing Magnus’ words back at him. “I don’t expect anyone to bow to me.”

Magnus tipped his chin down, leveling Alec with a hard gaze. “Not yet.”

“Gentlemen—” Raphael started.

Sparks flew off Magnus’ fingertips as he pointed at Luke. “You knew this would happen, didn’t you? You used me to locate Valentine so you could create the perfect weapon.”

Luke leaned forward. “You’re not telling Alec anything he doesn’t already know—he and I have made our peace. I wasn’t the only one who was lying to get to the Cup, though.”

Alec sat up straighter, the weight of his wings a reassuring presence on his shoulders. “You were never trapped in Edom at all.”

Magnus’ glamour flickered again, the shape of his body shifting, changing, for only a heartbeat, then solidifying into place again before Alec could discern what he was seeing. All he knew was that they had caught Magnus in his lie, and Magnus’ loss of control was enough to confirm that.

“Posture all you want, Nephilim,” Magnus dismissed, now confidently back in control. “You have been ineffective in reining in Valentine and unable to maintain even a modicum of control without the help of Downworlders. The Cup and the Sword don’t belong in your hands anymore.”

“This is all about the Mortal Instruments, isn’t it?”

“Apparently it is,” Magnus bit out. “The werewolves may have chosen their side, but we have yet to hear from the Night Children or the Fair Folk.”

“The Clave cannot have the Mortal Cup or the Soul Sword,” Raphael answered simply. “Too many of my people have already died.”

Alec lifted his eyes to the Queen. “And you? Do you want to fight a war you cannot win?”

“We already stated we won’t fight with you—” Meliorn started.

The Queen cut him off with a twist of her wrist. She tipped her head and studied Alec. “Your eyes, angel….”

The hair on Alec's arms stood on end.

The Queen tapped her fingernails on her throne. “Immortality suits you.”

_Immortality_ …?

Alec’s hearing fuzzed out and Jace raced out of the trees, his seraph blade raised. “Alec?”

Alec held up his palm to Jace, reining his shock back in. She was toying with them, pitting them against each other and exploiting their vulnerabilities. Whether out of strategy or sheer boredom was an answer he'd never get from her and one that held no bearing on his purpose for being here.

Magnus was his enemy and that was the only thing he’d needed to confirm.

He stood up and flattened his palms on the table. “A vote here is inconsequential. You won’t interfere in our work. Valentine is ours to handle and I will kill him.”

Magnus sat back in his chair, seemingly unaffected. His eyes met Alec’s, the glamour slipping away to reveal blood-red irises. His cat-eyes contracted into thin slits as he stared Alec down. “We’ll see who gets to Valentine first.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Valentine is completely untraceable,” Luke said, wiping away the map on the Institute’s screen. “No one knows where he is, and it’s not like I can go to Magnus anymore to track him.”

Alec scowled.

Standing next to Alec, Clary looked up at him. “I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something we’re missing about Magnus. Why would he send you to get the Cup if he could leave Edom all along? If he’s as powerful as Meliorn said, why wouldn’t he go get it himself? He knew where Valentine was going to be.”

_Because the Seelies are lying_ , a part of him wanted to say, but….

Alec shook his head. “I was sitting next to Magnus when he confirmed he was going after the Cup and the Sword, Clary. I don’t trust the Seelies, but they weren’t lying. They _can’t_ lie.”

“They can skirt the truth,” Jace pointed out, lifting an eyebrow.

Alec clenched his teeth. Jace felt Alec’s doubt, his hesitation. He felt Alec’s pain of betrayal, and overwhelming sense of…loss. Things Alec would never speak about, but couldn’t hide from Jace anymore. And for some reason, Jace felt the need to bring those emotions into the light even though Alec wanted them gone, buried.

Before he could snap at Jace, though, Luke spoke up. “Clary’s right, there’s something else going on with the Seelies. They won’t fight _and_ they’re playing both sides—negotiating with Magnus and providing information to us…. I think they may be making their own play for the Cup and Sword. Distracting us by pitting us against each other.”

“And if their goal is to make us fight each other,” Clary pressed, “then isn’t it possible they _are_ skirting around the truth? Meliorn said—”

“Stop,” Alec bit out. His wings began to expand and he snapped them back into place, sucking in a deep breath. “You didn’t see him, Clary. It was Magnus, but it also…wasn’t.”

“ _You’re_ not like you were before—”

“I can’t risk this city because a _piece_ of the man I loved may still exist!” Alec yelled, his anger overtaking him.

Jace winced. “Alec. Clary doesn’t deserve your anger.”

Alec gritted his teeth. That…. That was a problem. His emotions were too unchecked for him to trust them right now. He had to rely on his head, not his heart.

“Doesn’t she?” Alec leaned in, towering over her. “You gave your blood to the Seelies. Now I have to wait to see what mess I have to fix because you made another impetuous decision. As usual.”

“You know why I gave my blood to them?” Clary said, her eyes locked to his, unafraid. “They can use it to track _Valentine_. If they’re really as involved in this as it seems, then they don’t care about me—they want to know where Valentine is. We just have to wait and see if they make a move first or if Valentine does.”

Jace arched an eyebrow and smirked at Alec’s slack-jawed silence.

“Next time, try asking me instead of assuming I’m an idiot,” Clary said, tipping her head. “Okay?”

“Fine.”

“Well,” Luke drew out. “I’m going to go check some…stuff out.” He laid his hand on Alec’s shoulder. “Call me if anything changes and you need me back immediately.”

Alec nodded to him.

“Now that he’s gone….” Jace moved in closer, lowering his voice. “We need to talk about our parabatai bond, Alec.”

“What about it?”

Jace glanced at Clary and she nodded, speaking, “Do you remember how Magnus told us that angels communicated through visions with those who shared their blood? I think your parabatai bond is doing the same thing. It’s connecting the two of you even though you don’t have the same blood.”

“I’ve been having…dreams,” Jace added.

“More like nightmares,” Clary amended.

Jace scowled. “Not just at night time either.”

Alec didn’t like the sound of this. “Of what?”

“You killing Clary.”

_No_. He wouldn’t harm them.

“Are you sure?” Alec said, locking eyes with his parabatai. “The vision Ithuriel gave you was way more…metaphorical.”

“This isn’t like that, Alec. It’s like the remote visions you’ve described to me—but something that isn’t happening now.”

“But I’m not seeing anything like…that. What is it exactly?”

“Jace sees you plunging the Soul Sword into my heart,” Clary said calmly.

“I wouldn’t—”

Clary held up her hand to stop him. “If the time comes and it’s the right thing to do, then you will. Promise me.”

“I won’t—” Alec’s voice died in his throat as guilt rushed through his rune. He glared at his parabatai. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“It’s not just you holding the sword,” Jace answered, “it’s me too. And I’ve already promised her that I will.”

“I won’t do it,” Alec insisted. “We find the demon who can destroy the Soul Sword. There is no other option.”

Jace ground his teeth. “Alec—”

“We’re done talking about this,” he snapped. “I won’t hurt any of you!”

Silence filled the inches between them as Jace dipped his head down, shuffling from foot to foot and Clary gave a half-hearted smile over his shoulder to someone standing behind him.

Alec took a deep breath and turned. “Hey, Max.”

Weeks ago he would’ve dropped to his knees so he could wrap Max in his arms to reaffirm a connection between them that was stretched by distance and the difference in their ages, but since Max had returned to the Institute for his official training, the set of his shoulders had shifted. He held a proud upward slant to his chin that told Alec that his little brother didn’t want to be seen as _little_ anymore. And today, there was a man standing next to Max that Alec didn’t know.

Alec glanced at the Shadowhunter, then refocused on Max. “How’s training going?”

“Great,” Max said proudly, looking up to the man standing next to him. “This is Sebastian. He’s taken over my training for Izzy.”

Sebastian flashed an easy smile. “Your brother is talented for being so freshly runed. But I suppose that’s only natural seeing as who he was raised with.”

Alec narrowed his eyes at the overblown praise and a very clear _Be nice_ filtered into his head from Jace.

Jace shook Sebastian’s hand. “And where are you from?”

“The London Institute. I’m on…temporary loan, I suppose you’d call it.”

Maryse joined their group, settling her hands on Max’s shoulders. “Sebastian is going to oversee the Institute and the soldiers who can’t go with us yet when we go after Valentine….” She tipped her chin up. “And Magnus Bane.”

Alec gritted his teeth, but before he could say anything, the door to the Institute slammed open, Izzy barreling inside with Maia on her heels. “What the fuck is this, Mom? You want Maia’s _blood_?”

Maryse’s cool gaze slipped past Maia to Izzy. “Participation is voluntary and it’s for their own protection. After what happened with the Soul Sword, we’re trying to understand what the exact cause of death was and if we can prevent that from happening some other way. As a scientist yourself, I would think you would understand the importance of research like that.”

“As an intelligent, independent-thinking _human being_ ,” Izzy growled, “I understand that knowledge like that can later be used in very different ways than originally intended. But I highly doubt the Clave’s intention _now_ is to protect Downworlders.”

Maryse huffed out a derisive laugh. “What do you think we want it for?”

Izzy didn’t flinch. “To find a way to eradicate every Downworlder if you don’t get the Sword back to do it for you.”

“Perhaps all of you have been spending too much time around Downworlders,” Maryse calmly answered. “The order stands.”

She spun away, heels clacking as she stormed toward her office. Max raised an eyebrow and Sebastian coughed, clearing his throat. “Well then, let’s get back to training, Max.”

Alec forced a smile. “We’ll see you at dinner.”

As soon as Max was gone, Izzy faced him, her cheekbones in sharp relief. “This isn’t right, Alec.”

“She says participation is ‘voluntary,’” Maia said, “but the Downworlders are scared of you and what you could do to them. _Nothing_ is voluntary when it’s done under threat.”

“I don’t agree with this at all,” Alec made clear. “I’ll talk to the Clave, but for now, Maia…. Please let people know I won’t—” Alec sucked in a breath through his teeth and crossed his arms. “I won’t hurt them.”

“Honestly? There aren’t that many Downworlders left to tell. Magnus opened up Edom to all Downworlders—not just warlocks—and people are taking him up on his offer of protection. They don’t trust the Clave anymore.”

Alec stilled.

Magnus wasn’t just offering protection, he was increasing the size of his army. And the Clave was only giving him more reason to do so.

Even though Magnus was his adversary now, he’d been right about one thing—the Clave couldn’t be in control of the Mortal Instruments any longer.

Alec lifted his gaze to Jace. “We have to destroy both the Cup and the Sword.”

“Is it time?”

The excitement thrumming through Alec’s rune was, literally, palpable.

Alec nodded and flexed his wings. “It’s time for me to learn how the fuck to use these.”

 

****

 

“He’s using a glamour to conceal himself from mundanes,” Dot said. “But he’s not hiding anymore.”

Magnus stepped up to Dot, studying the memories she projected on the wall of the throne room. “Is this from today?”

“This one is from five days ago.” Dot swirled her fingertips and the memories shifted as she spoke. “Four days ago. Three…. As you can see, it didn’t take him long to have complete control over his wings.”

Magnus crossed his arms across his chest, sparks popping off his fingers like a match dragging over sandpaper as he trailed his thumb over his forefinger over and over again. Dot’s first memory showed Alec tumbling off the top of the Empire State Building, his wings snapping out at the last second to send him soaring above New York traffic. But with each day, with each fearless jump off the top of one of New York’s tallest buildings, Magnus watched as that tumble evolved into an arc.

Magnus ignored the ache of his own wings and focused on the memories in front of him.

The shape of Alec’s body was the same, but he moved differently now—effortlessly. As if he’d born for those wings. Magnus may have been a Prince of Hell turned King, but this Shadowhunter…. Alec was descended from the angels who’d chosen to stay rather than fall. He’d carried heaven in his veins since conception, and he flew with the strength and grace befitting a god.

“He’s perfected flying with his bow and a seraph blade, but that’s not the worst part….” Dot swiped that memory away and raised another. “He has the power to draw lightning down from the sky.”

Magnus stilled. “He can activate the Soul Sword himself.”

Alec was dangerous. Lethal.

And because of Magnus’ inability to locate Valentine, he’d allowed Alec time to become that.

Simon stepped up next to him, mesmerized. “I still can’t believe that’s Alec.”

Magnus ground his teeth.

Someone had told Alec that there never had been a confinement curse, and—even though, theoretically, they were incapable of lying—Magnus had a slinking suspicion which of the Seelies it was.

He hadn’t been able to refute Alec’s assertion in the Glade because doing so would’ve put Madzie in danger, but he hadn’t had the desire to clear the air either. He’d known as soon as he saw those gold eyes…. Something fundamental in Alec had shifted with the ascension.

Just as something fundamental inside Magnus had shifted when he’d been forced to drink from the Cup.

“It's not the Alec we knew,” Magnus answered Simon. “He looked at me with the same haughty disdain Maryse does.”

“But Alec—?”

“He said that Downworlders weren’t to interfere with his work,” Magnus cut in, flames dancing off his fingertips. “That our voices—our right to decide our own lives—were inconsequential.”

Simon swallowed thickly. “And Clary’s backing him up?”

“Jace and Luke are, so I can only assume that Clary and Isabelle are as well.”

“Clary’s been with him every day,” Dot confirmed.

Dot twisted her wrist and the memory shifted to Luke, Jace, Izzy, Clary, and Maia emerging from the Empire State Building onto the street, and Alec hovering above them, an arrogant smile on his lips.

Simon clenched his jaw.

_Good_ , Magnus thought. He needed Simon to be angry. He needed everyone in the palace to understand clearly that their friends of yesterday could very well be their enemies now.

He swiveled to face Dot. “Are you sure they're moving on Valentine?"

“In a few hours,” Dot confirmed. “They asked Iris to reinforce the wards on the Institute and stay behind to maintain them. She’s ready to help however you want her to.”

“And the Seelies?”

“They’re on the move too,” Dot answered. “Meliorn and his best knights.”

Magnus shook his head. “The Seelies will have no chance against an angel.”

“So what makes you think we will?” Cat asked, her voice quiet but insistent from where she sat on the couch behind him.

Magnus swiveled on his heel, dropping merely the glamour on his eyes as he winked at her. “Because you haven’t seen all of who I am now.”

“Ever the showman,” she scoffed fondly, but Magnus heard the underlying tension in her voice.

“So what’s the plan then?” Simon asked.

Magnus refocused on their plan of attack. He didn’t have time to counter Cat’s pacifistic leanings. “We allow them to fight with Valentine—a fight they will most surely win since the Sword cannot be used against them. Then before they bring the Cup and Sword back to the Institute, we’ll have Iris drop the wards.”

Dot nodded in understanding. “We'll sabotage them there.”

“While we're there, we’ll also eliminate the new database.”

“I’m good with computers,” Simon said, “But I don’t know if I’m that good.”

Magnus shrugged. “I’ll burn the Institute to the ground if I have to.”

Simon nodded and crossed his arms. “It seems awfully convenient that they’re doing this during daylight, when Raphael’s clan can’t fight with us.”

“It’s _not_ a coincidence, but it doesn't matter. We can't allow the Clave to have the Cup or the Sword.”

“Yeah.” Simon nodded emphatically then looked to Magnus. “I think I’m ready?”

Magnus grasped his bicep and leaned in. “You are.”

“Magnus,” Cat said, drawing his attention back to her. “Madzie told me she wants to go with you.”

“She’s a _child_.”

“You know I agree with you,” Cat answered gently. “But the only person more powerful than her in this palace is you, so the warlocks have been asking her why she isn’t fighting at your side.”

“I won’t allow her to be used as a weapon. Not like Valentine did, and not without her being old enough to understand the consequences of her magic.”

“Are you going to talk to her about what may happen if you don’t come back?”

Simon’s head whipped around. “What’s going to happen? And why wouldn’t he be coming back?”

Magnus ignored Simon and focused on Cat. “ _Nothing_ will happen to her. If I don’t return by nightfall, then you take her and disappear.”

“And your demons?”

“We need volunteers to stay behind with you and Madzie to help maintain my wards and chaos spells.”

Dot raised her eyebrows at that. “That will mean sharing your spells with other warlocks.”

“I'm not a dictator, Dorothea. This is knowledge that will make everyone safer.” He turned to Cat again. “I trust you to choose who should stay behind. Bring everyone to me in an hour—including Madzie—and we’ll go over the protection spells. Right now, though….”

Magnus inhaled the dry, dusty air of Edom. His wings twitched, and his glamour faltered. He wouldn’t have to hold onto it for too much longer, though, and then…. Then Alec would see the truth of who Magnus had become.

A truth that had led him to ignore every letter from Alec until that last one, because he’d feared how Alec would look at him once he knew.

A shiver raked down his spine in anticipation.

At one time, the revelation that Alec was immortal would’ve shaken him for a very personal reason. Now, it just made his job more difficult. Thousands of Downworlders were relying on him to keep them safe.

He wouldn’t fail them.

“Right now, I need to figure out how to kill an angel.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who's still with me? idk how we already got to week 7 of this fic, but here we are....
> 
> i'm avoiding my timeline on twitter because of spoilers, but i'll still be checking notifications and the #ascensionfic hashtag.
> 
> more answers this week....

Iris’ bolt of magic slammed into Magnus’ chest, propelling him into the window and a spray of stained glass rained down around him. Magnus scowled. The Institute was going to be destroyed before Alec even returned with the Cup.

Dot raced toward him, and Magnus held his hand up, stopping her.

“Why isn't Madzie here?” Iris screamed, intent on him despite the hundreds of warlocks who filled the Institute and its grounds. “Asmodeus may have been her father, but _I_ am her mother.” She grimaced, tears forming in her eyes. “You can't leave me for eternity in a place where I'll never see her again.”

Magnus brushed the glass shards off his shoulders and stood. He'd held back long enough.

He spread his fingers wide and pushed his hand forward, sending out a shockwave that flattened everything in its path and sent Iris hurtling into the opposite wall with a sickening thud. She groaned, her chin dropping to her chest and blood trickling over her lips.

Magnus stepped over the unconscious Shadowhunters on the floor, his heart speeding at the sight of the smallest Nephilim—Maryse’s arms still wrapped around Max where they'd fallen to the floor when Iris had magicked them all into unconsciousness. Maryse was a deeply flawed human being, but more of a mother in that moment than Iris had been with Madzie. Just as Madzie had no place in this fight, neither did Max.

Unlike how Magnus had been raised, children were meant to be protected.

“You may have raised Madzie,” Magnus said as he stepped up to Iris, “but you left her vulnerable because of your obsessions. You invited Valentine into her life by pursuing your sick experiments over her well-being. I will fight for her until my last breath, and you are not welcome in Edom until that is the case for you too.”

Iris lifted her eyes to him. “Magnus, please—”

Magnus closed his fingers one by one into a tight fist, compressing her chest. “Your actions don’t inspire mercy.”

Iris choked, gasping for air.

Since leaving Edom, the ingrained presence of his demons had faded, making way for the destructive power of his magic to become an overwhelming pressure against his bones. He wouldn’t give in, though. He wouldn’t become her executioner. He released his grip and snapped his fingers, binding her unconscious, sagging form in place.

Magnus dusted off his hands, frowning at the gray streaks left behind on his pants.

Simon kicked at a pile of crushed electronics at his feet—one of many scattered across the control room. “Well, that takes care of the database problem.”

Magnus shook his head. It didn’t begin to fix the problem. “Take Delvos with you and go down to the lab. Destroy anything that looks like a blood or tissue sample. It's likely there are multiple backups of their database, but the message that we won’t let this stand without a fight is most important for now.”

Entrusted with a task Magnus knew he’d be more comfortable with than fighting, the set of Simon’s shoulders eased as he headed for the elevators.

“Sofia sent a fire message,” Dot said. “Alec and the rest of the Shadowhunters are on their way back now with Valentine and both of the Mortal Instruments. As far as we can tell, they don't suspect anything.”

Magnus’ magic rippled under his skin. “How long?”

“Minutes.”

“Encircle the front door and remain glamoured until they're inside,” Magnus called out to the warlocks. “Once they’re inside, no one gets past us or back out without the Cup and Sword in my hands.”

Magnus twisted the rings on his fingers as the warlocks shifted into place. An empty sword sheath hung down his spine, and he wouldn’t leave the Institute without the weight of the Soul Sword between his shoulder blades. He tipped his head and mentally pushed at the edges of his glamour. He flexed his wings, still yet unseen, and thumped them together once, twice, debris and dust swirling around him. The warlocks stilled at the sound and movement, eyeing him warily. The Institute’s doors swung open, and Magnus relinquished his glamour, unfurling his wings to stretch above his head and out past the reach of his arms. A shadow fell over the entryway as the black wings lifted him off the ground and blotted out the light.

Alec’s feet stuttered to a halt, his chin lifted, then his eyes, locking on to Magnus’ blood-red irises. His lips twisted into a grimace and the last thread of hope Magnus had clung to sizzled into ash. _There_. There was the disgust Magnus had known he would see.

Magnus clenched his fists and didn’t flinch away from Alec’s harsh appraisal. He wouldn’t be dismissed this time.

“Mom. Max!” Izzy cried out, racing for their prone forms with Maia on her heels. Izzy’s hands settled on them, checking for breath and heartbeat, then her vicious gaze landed on Magnus. “What did you do to them?”

“Hand over the Cup and the Sword,” Magnus said, focusing solely on Alec. “There doesn’t have to be anymore destruction today.”

Clary and Jace both held their seraph blades at the ready, runes glowing, and Valentine stood behind them, his hands bound, mouth gagged, with Luke at his back.

Alec calmly surveyed the warlocks filling the main control room, then glanced over his shoulder at the warlocks who had circled behind them outside to hem their group in. His knuckles whitened with his grip on the Cup, and the Soul Sword swung on his hip as he stepped forward into the main room.

“You brought only warlocks with you….” Alec arched an eyebrow. “So you _do_ need the Cup to control your own demons.”

Magnus narrowed his eyes. “I don’t _need_ the Cup for anything anymore.” The percussive thump of his wings echoed throughout the room. He lifted his hands and fire danced off his fingertips, sparking against particles of dust and dropping, hissing, to the floor. “But I still plan to fight for it.”

Clary’s jaw clenched and her gaze hardened as she took a step forward.

“Clary, don’t!” Dot called out. “Please. No one has to get hurt.”

Magnus’ magic flared in his chest, clawing at him in desperation to be set free. To destroy.

Simon emerged from the elevator with Delvos and stumbled to a stop when he took in the scene around him. His jaw flexed and his gaze settled on Magnus. “We destroyed all the samples.” Magnus nodded and Simon wound around Clary without a glance—even when a pained whisper of his name passed her lips—taking up a position at Magnus’ back.

“I learned from the mistakes of my father,” Magnus said, his voice rumbling low in his chest. It pained him to admit his demon heritage this way—as if he were laying claim to it—but Alec already saw him as more demon than human. “I will not die today, but you…. The Cup and the Sword now, Nephilim.”

He extended his hand and trails of fire whipped around Alec, flicking out to brush against the Mortal Instruments.

Alec swept his wings out, Magnus’ magic sputtering to smoke where fire met golden feathers. He widened his stance, and tilted his chin up—the same arrogant tilt that Magnus had seen in generations of Lightwoods. “No.”

“There’s no need for bloodshed,” Magnus warned. It would be Alec’s last warning. “ _If_ you give them to me now.”

Alec held his gaze. His chest expanded on a single, bracing breath. “I won't.”

“Maybe bloodshed is all that will convince them,” Delvos growled and whipped around, unleashing his magic in a violent burst that blasted across the room.

Maia yelled, and Izzy’s eyes widened as she curled over her mother and Max. Magnus’ magic poured out of him like a tidal wave, twisting him through the air and in front of them without need of conscious thought. Delvos’ death spell slammed into Magnus’ back and he tumbled to the floor, struggling to breathe. He soaked in the crippling pain of the dark magic, it's blackness converging with the hellfire in his veins and burning away under its assault.

He gritted his teeth and lifted his head. Izzy cowered in fear in front of him, hands shaking, and yet she remained in place, shielding Max from further attack.

Tears pooled in Maia’s eyes. “Please don't hurt them. Please.”

The floor under Magnus’ hands cracked as his fury bled into flames. He stood and faced Delvos.

“You _do not_ threaten a child,” Magnus yelled, wrenching Delvos off his feet with a twist of his wrist. “We are better than this!”

The crackling of Magnus’ magic was thunderous in his ears in the silence the followed.

Magnus inhaled a stuttering breath and looked to each one of the warlocks in the main room. “Do you hear me?”

The warlocks met his eyes, nodding.

“We hear you,” Dot answered for them. This time, the fear in her eyes was because of him.

“Your place in Edom is forfeit,” Magnus said to Delvos, opening a portal and banishing him from further protection.

As the portal snapped closed, behind him there was scuffling and the rasp of a choked sob. “I told you! The Seelies—”

“Don’t, Clary.”

Blinding, bitter pain lanced through Magnus’ chest. He’d only heard Alec’s voice so broken—so frightened and unsure—once before….

When Alec had told Magnus that he loved him.

The hairs on the back of Magnus’ neck prickled and he turned to face Alec.

Alec hovered over Izzy, Max, and Maryse, the Soul Sword raised in one hand, the Cup gripped tightly in the other, and his lips drawn in a thin line. He was braced to attack, but he didn’t. Didn’t attempt to draw lightning down from the heavens and ignite the Sword as Magnus knew he could.

“I will kill you if I have to….” Magnus said, meeting Alec's eyes. It was a promise and regret. It was a test of his own resolve just as much as it was of Alec. “But only to keep my people safe.”

Alec’s grip tightened on the sword. “Meliorn said—”

Magnus’ gut twisted. “Meliorn is only half-Seelie. He can lie.”

Except for the rhythmic sweep of his wings to keep him aloft, Alec was deathly still. Jace swayed on his feet, and Clary wrapped an arm around him to keep him standing.

“Jace?” Alec bit out, his eyes never leaving Magnus’.

“I’m okay.” He grimaced. “It’s just…a lot.”

Alec closed his eyes for a heartbeat, then he re-sheathed the Sword and dropped to his feet.

Magnus’ magic thrummed in his veins, urging him to attack, and he pushed the dark temptation aside, focusing on Madzie and her garden and magic that still ran as strong, pure, and as blue as rushing river water.

“Wake them up,” Izzy begged Magnus, gentler this time. “Please.”

“Magnus can’t undo it,” Dot said. “It was Iris’ spell.”

Alec winced. “No one touches them right now.” He eyed Magnus warily, then the Cup. “Not until we know what’s going on.”

Alec tossed the Cup to Luke, and Valentine yelled through his gag, spinning away from Luke. Magnus raised his hands to contain Valentine, but Jace was already wrenching Valentine back and Clary pressed the tip of her blade to his throat.

His gag had come loose and Valentine spluttered, eyes widening with terror. “Listen to me. He cannot have the Cu—”

The concussive blast of a gunshot rang in Magnus’ ears, and Valentine slumped forward, blood pouring from his head.

Clary reeled back. “Luke!”

A gun clattered to the floor from Luke’s hand, and Luke’s features contorted in rage. “I should’ve done that _years_ ago!” His gaze landed on each pair of wide-eyes surrounding him and he dropped to his haunches. “After everything he’s done…. Every one of us he’s hurt….” Luke’s chest heaved and he sneered, holding out the Cup to Alec. “I don’t want this.”

Alec shook his head and placed his hand on Luke’s shoulder. “It can’t be in the hands of the Clave. Keep it until we know how to destroy it.”

Luke clenched his jaw and nodded.

Magnus sucked in a breath. Alec had just given control of one of the Mortal Instruments to a Downworlder.

The whispers between warlocks started up immediately and a shiver raked down Magnus’ spine as his wings contracted.

He turned to face them. “You are all welcome to return to Edom, but are under no obligation to do so.”

“Dot and I aren’t leaving you,” Simon said, his chin tipped defiantly up even as portals swirled open around him.

“Not until we know it’s safe,” Dot confirmed.

Magnus nodded. He wasn’t sure yet either.

By the time the last portal had closed and Magnus turned around, Izzy, Maia and two warlocks who had remained behind were transporting the unconscious Shadowhunters and Iris to the infirmary, and Valentine’s body was gone.

Alec met Magnus’ eyes again then—and this time they were shadowed green, a color that had haunted Magnus’ dreams for weeks—but Alec opened his mouth only to shut it immediately, stalking away and putting his back to Magnus.

“Jace, Clary,” Alec beckoned. “Find a computer that still works and erase every record of the blood taken from Downworlders. Take Dot and Simon with you so they can see that it’s done.”

Jace shot Alec a questioning glance and Alec sighed, waving him away.

“Go,” Magnus said to Dot and Simon.

Leaving he and Alec alone.

Magnus’ heart skittered in his chest. “And the Soul Sword?”

Alec ran his fingers through his hair and his wings fluttered closed. He glanced over his shoulder at Magnus. “Can you destroy it?”

“I don’t know.”

Alec nodded and faced Magnus, lifting his eyes to Magnus’. He unsheathed the Sword and held it out, balancing it in both hands. “Try.”

Magnus throat burned with everything he wanted to say, but couldn’t. He settled the Sword into the sheath on his back and opened a portal. “Deal with Iris as you see fit. She’s too much of a threat to the stability I’ve built in Edom.”

Alec furrowed his brow. “Magnus….”

“Not here,” Magnus said around the tightening of his chest. “If you want to talk, you know where to find me.”

 

****

 

Alec stood silently in front of the Seelie Queen and waited for Magnus, an anxious heartbeat kicking in his chest and the steadiness of Jace’s heart thrumming through his rune.

Seemingly unaffected by his presence, the Queen perched on a stack of pillows, surrounded by pixies with translucent wings who wove flowers into her hair. “You left the Cup and the Sword unprotected to come here, angel?”

Alec’s cool gaze slipped from the twist of the pixie’s fingers to her eyes. “I didn’t leave them unprotected.”

“Didn’t you?”

“You should worry less about two pieces of metal and more about the consequences of manipulating an angel.”

“Meliorn is dead,” the Queen stated, as if her summary execution of him absolved her of all blame. “Seelies understand there is a consequence for every action. And that sometimes death isn’t the worst tragedy that can befall us.”

Alec ground his teeth together and flicked his wings, sending the pixies scattering, leaving a trail of ivy, twigs, and flowers in their wake.

A portal roared open across the meadow and Magnus stepped out, free of his glamour. He had always commanded Alec’s attention. Always been the first, last—and sometimes _only_ —person Alec saw in a room. Despite Alec’s convoluted emotions, that undeniable attraction hadn’t been any different in the Institute yesterday, and it wasn’t any different now.

Magnus’ eyes weren’t the same color, but the crimson captivated Alec even more than the gold had, just as hypnotizing as red gloss-slicked lips had once been. His wings jutted into sharp points above his head—a visual warning of his power and a striking counterpoint to his elegant, youthful features. Fairy lights danced in the trees behind him, illuminating the wings as they swayed with the precise and yet fluid movement of his body. His makeup was darker and even more refined—dramatic, yet colorless and sparse. A carefully applied mask even with his glamour gone and a physical reminder that this was the man Alec had fallen in love with, and yet it wasn’t.

Just as Alec himself wasn’t the same.

“You have a guest, King of Edom,” the Queen proclaimed. “I couldn’t keep him out of the Glade, but it appears as if entrance to your realm by an angel must be conferred by you.”

Magnus’ jaw flexed. He hadn't met Alec’s eyes yet. “No one is allowed inside my realm without my explicit permission anymore. After the events of yesterday, I…modified the rules of passage. All within the bounds of our agreement, of course.”

The Queen frowned.

Alec glanced between them, confused. “What agreement?”

Magnus opened his mouth to speak, but the Queen cut him off. “A contract, bound by our blood, that allowed me to lift the confinement curse.”

Alec’s stomach tumbled. Meliorn _had_ lied. And it was the Queen who had lifted the confinement curse?

“But the Cup…?”

“The Cup had nothing to do with the curse, angel.”

“Then how…?” Alec glanced at Magnus. He had gone silent. Unmoving. “How did you break it?”

“Don’t, Alec,” Magnus said quietly. He finally met Alec’s eyes then. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Her answer will only bring harm to you, and a moment’s relief from boredom for her.”

Alec knew that. He did. Yet there was a part of him still unsure about Magnus, and the Queen preyed on vulnerabilities—on raw emotion. With her there was pain, but there was always truth at the core. If Magnus still loved him, if the truth of who he was—who _they_ were—hadn’t changed, then her answer would attack what she perceived as a weakness. A knife unerringly striking the heart, because watching blood pour from the wound was infinitely fascinating to her.

He had to know.

“I want to hear what she has to say.”

Magnus flinched and the Queen’s lips twisted into a sly smile. “The curse was part of an agreement made between Asmodeus and another Seelie Queen, long ago. A pact to ensure that, should Asmodeus ever die, his heir would have no choice but to bargain with us for freedom. It took some time, but the new King of Edom finally agreed to my price.”

“What did you give her to break the curse, Magnus?” His voice barely made it past his lips.

“He thought you were dead,” the Queen mused. “He was wrong, but he thought you were dead.”

“Magnus.” Alec’s stomach twisted, his rune flared, and he had to fight back Jace’s worry, because his own was already too much to bear. “What did you give her?”

Magnus’ crimson eyes bored into him. “My immortality.”

He shouldn’t have asked.

He didn’t want to know.

He’d always envisioned a world with Magnus. A life that extended well beyond his own limited mortal years, because a soul like Magnus’ deserved to never sputter into darkness.

But Magnus had relinquished his immortality. And he’d only agreed to that price after he’d thought Alec was dead.

The Queen’s knife had found its mark.

“No…. Not _that_ , Magnus.”

Magnus shook his head sadly. “Come to Edom with me and we can talk.”

“Rest easy, angel,” the Queen said. “I haven’t yet demanded my payment.”

A surge of anger at her casual insolence tore through Alec and lightning flashed in the sky.

“Please, Alexander….”

Magnus’ voice cut through the rage fuzzing his vision and the panic coming from his rune, and Alec focused on him, matching his breaths to the measured lift of Magnus’ wings each time he inhaled.

Magnus held out his hand. A silent plea for answers that should only be spoken between the two of them. “Just come with me.”

Alec clasped Magnus’ hand and pulled Magnus into him, lifting his wings and curling them around Magnus’ body to shield them both from cruel, prying eyes. His feathers skated across Magnus’ wings and Alec shivered. He breathed, believed, allowed every doubt to fall away, and Jace’s presence lulled to a quiet static. “Let’s go.”

Magnus clung tighter to him, his breath a warm brush against Alec’s neck, and nodded.

He’d walked through dozens of portals with Magnus before, and this one shouldn’t have been any different, but Alec stumbled, off-kilter, when the portal dropped them into Edom and his bond with Jace cut off like flipping a light switch.

He dragged Magnus to a stop and Magnus’ brow creased in worry. “What is it?”

“I can’t feel Jace.”

“I built my wards to keep you out.” Alec winced and Magnus’ jaw flexed. “They’re likely keeping him out too.”

Magnus let go of his hand and glanced warily at Alec before heading for the door, checking the lock and reinforcing his wards. Wards that Magnus had raised to keep him away, because…? He needed answers and explanations, but the stilted movement of Magnus’ hands betrayed his disquiet, and Alec was _inside_ Edom now, invited past the wards….

Magnus had promised to tell Alec everything, and Magnus had never broken a promise to him.

He took a deep breath and lifted his shirt, running his fingertips over his parabatai rune—still dark against skin, still etched in gold—and finally looked around the room. Sunlight filtered through the windows, but it was dulled, more umber than orange, and it cast a pallor on the nearly exact recreation of Magnus’ bedroom in the loft—his bed, the paintings on the walls, a bursting closet—but with a view much different than Brooklyn.

Alec crossed the room to the windows, an unease clinging to his lungs with every breath of arid air he drew in.

“I’d have taken you to the throne room,” Magnus said quietly as he approached, “but I have an open door policy now and rarely a moment of peace when I’m there.”

“It’s okay.”

This was better. Familiar.

More like home.

Alec propped his forearm on the window and leaned in, surveying the city below. “It looks almost like Alicante.”

“They have very similar histories,” Magnus responded, tucking his wings back and leaning a shoulder against the window so he could face Alec. “But in this realm, the demons won.”

“Is that a garden?”

Magnus nodded. “Madzie’s garden.”

Alec laughed softly in surprise. “How? This is a Hell realm.”

“It was a Hell realm because Asmodeus made it so. It was once Lilith’s realm as well—the Greater Demon who is the mother of all warlocks. But apparently Asmodeus and Lilith had a falling out, and he ended up with Edom in the divorce.”

Alec glanced at Magnus with that, the smile on Magnus’ lips igniting a flare of recognition—of memories more good than bad.

“It’s a land like any other,” Magnus continued, shrugging. “I miss the sun, though—the real sun. If my people decide to stay after the Cup and the Sword are destroyed, then maybe we can continue to change this land. Maybe we can bring back the sun.”

 _My people_ and a collective _we_ that didn’t include Alec….

Alec rested his forehead on his arm and nodded. “It’s your kingdom.”

“I didn’t want it, but it’s mine to take care of now.”

Of course that would be the way for Magnus. He was just as resolute as he’d been with his responsibilities as the High Warlock of Brooklyn. Just as dedicated to protecting his own.

And he would continue to be until the Seelie Queen claimed her side of their bargain.

“Magnus—”

“It’s done.” Magnus swallowed thickly. “The agreement with the Seelie Queen is one I cannot re-negotiate.”

Alec clenched his hand into a fist, and pressed his forehead into his arm, closing his eyes. “After that first meeting with her, Jace told me that he wouldn’t want to live forever. And I get it. Before this happened, I wouldn’t have chosen this either. But now I have eternity to get used to the idea”—he shifted to look Magnus in the eye—“and you….” How had they ended up here? “You don’t.”

“We have _now_ , Alexander.”

Alec had never seen sadness so profound in Magnus’ eyes before, yet Magnus still reached out for him, settling his hand on Alec’s jaw, begging him—challenging him—to forget everything except _them_.

Magnus slid his hand down the slope of Alec’s neck, his fingers curling into Alec’s nape. Alec leaned into the warmth of his skin, gave in to the silent request, and pressed his lips to Magnus’.

There were questions and answers and dangerous truths that fear could twist into confusion and lips could misspeak, then there was this. One side of a conversation that revealed everything in one touch—one kiss—and compelled a response of the same striking honesty.

Alec relinquished his fear, banished his unrest, and breathed Magnus in, pushing aside everything except _them_ until they were skin to skin and Alec didn’t have to try anymore, he existed solely in this moment. Solely for Magnus.

The first brush of Magnus’ hands on his wings sent him to his knees—weak with need, desperate for more. Magnus’ ragged inhalations filled his ears and he dug his fingers into muscle, spurring Magnus deeper, silently begging with lips and tongue for Magnus to take everything, to claim every part of him.

He drew back and Magnus knew—just as he always had, always would. Magnus spread his wings wide and led Alec, falling onto sheets whose softness was familiar under Alec’s knees.

Crimson eyes and spit-slick lips held him just as steady as the hands on his hips. Magnus’ magic sparked against his skin, feeding the flames licking at the base of his spine as Alec drove himself down and buried Magnus deep inside him.

He lingered in the limitless expanse of time, stretched far out in front of them. A breath that held both this second and the possibility of every second granted. Of one night stretching into two then the thousands upon thousands ahead, of days that joined those nights, each one building on the last, until he was at Magnus’ side when the sun returned to Edom.

In this moment, this heartbeat, they were eternal.

Alec fell forward, gasping in the air now thick with the scent of sweat and sex, draping his wings over them and hiding them from the world.

“I still love you, Alexander,” Magnus confessed, his fingers tracing the lines of Alec’s wings.

Alec pressed his lips to Magnus’ chest, then rested his head on warm skin. Magnus’ heart beat steadily against his cheek.

“I love you too.”

Still.

 _Always_.

He’d carry that love with him long after Magnus’ last breath.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lot more answers this week and some sorely needed quiet time for magnus and alec.
> 
> only four more chapters after this....
> 
> i'm still tracking the #ascensionfic hashtag on twitter :) xx

This was the longest span of time Magnus had spent outside of the throne room since he’d been propelled into Edom, but he couldn’t find the will to leave his bed.

Alec lay on his side next to Magnus, his hair mussed and wings stretched out behind him, his clothes still lying on the floor next to Magnus’, where they’d been abandoned yesterday.

Magnus traced his finger over Alec’s parabatai rune. “Does Jace’s rune look like this too?”

Alec nodded. “Do you know what it means?”

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Magnus admitted. “I’ve read about marks like this on humans who were possessed by angels, but that’s clearly not the case with you….” He furrowed his brow. “How strong is your bond?”

Alec exhaled and rolled onto his stomach, propping his head on a pillow so he could look at Magnus. “It’s…intense. I feel everything he does, but like it’s ratcheted up ten thousand times. It’s like that for both of us. I can also read every thought in his head, but I make a point not to if I don’t have to.”

“It is _Jace_.”

Alec smiled at that, but just as quickly his smile dropped. “He’s been having visions. Things he can see and I can’t, but that are similar to the remote visions I have.”

“Remote visions?”

“All I have to do is think about something and I can see it—except for Edom, I could never see inside here. And I guess that makes sense because of your wards. But I didn’t see _you_ at the Institute either, and I thought that was because of Iris, but it wasn’t, was it?”

“I warded myself against you too,” he admitted.

“Why?”

Magnus frowned, creasing his brow in confusion. “Because I didn’t want you to see what drinking from the Cup had done to _me_.”

Alec’s eyes widened. “What? You—?”

“I'm sorry.” Magnus sighed. “I’d assumed you'd figured that out. Asmodeus dying didn't do this to me, the Cup did. One second I was fighting with you against Valentine’s forces, and the next I was bound in front of Asmodeus and Valentine. Asmodeus forced me to drink from the Cup and after that…. I can’t be quite sure. The pain was”—Magnus inhaled a shuddering breath—“ _excruciating_. But you would know that, wouldn’t you?”

Alec reached out for him then, grasping Magnus’ hand.

“Then I woke up in Edom—like this. Alone except for the demons and unable to portal anywhere except within Edom. I thought if I had the Cup I could figure out a way to reverse what Asmodeus had done to me….”

“Fuck. _That’s_ why you sent me after the Cup.”

Magnus felt a sneer pulling at his lips. “I _hated_ what I’d become. And not just my physical changes. My magic is dark now, destructive. Then when I saw you in the Glade and you looked at me with such disgust…. I knew the Cup had changed me physically and emotionally, and I believed it had changed you in some fundamental way too.”

“I am different.”

“But you’re not. Not in any way that deserved my judgment or wrath.”

“I made that same mistake too,” Alec said around a grimace. “The Seelies manipulated us both. And Valentine…. He’s ultimately to blame.”

Magnus shook his head sadly. “When Cat told me you were dead, and Simon said another Shadowhunter had ascended because they’d drank from the Cup…. It seemed like the cruelest twist of fate that the one thing I thought could save me had killed you—and I had sent you to that death.”

Alec coaxed him in closer, securing Magnus under his wing. “Why us? What was Valentine trying to achieve?”

If there had been a reason, with Asmodeus’ and Valentine’s deaths, it was lost now. “We were just another experiment for him. The only two who survived out of dozens he tried this on.”

“And now he’s dead.” There was no peace in Alec’s voice with that answer. “Do you still think the Cup can reverse this? For either of us?”

“No.” For the first time in hours, Magnus felt his magic welling up inside him from guilt. He grasped onto Alec’s hand tighter and pressed his lips to Alec’s skin. “I’m sorry, Alexander. If hadn’t warded myself against you or if I’d told Luke about me—”

“It’s done, Magnus. I could have reached out to you, too, then you never would’ve gone to the Seelie Queen….” Alec’s shoulders lifted with a deep inhale. “And Luke…. I’ve forgiven him. Valentine turned him, Jace is the reason he lost most of his pack, and I’m the reason Jocelyn is dead.”

“You’re not to blame—”

“I know I’m not,” Alec interrupted. “Not directly. But the Clave has failed Luke over and over again—a man who was one of our own for most of his life. I understand his anger and his drive to find some way to protect his pack. I _am_ a weapon.”

No. Alec was so much more than that.

Magnus’ couldn’t forgive Luke for the decision he’d made, even if Alec had. Fire danced off his fingertips, and Alec didn’t pull away as the tendrils licked at his skin but didn’t burn. “Alexander, you could have died.”

“I did think I was dying, and you were the last thing I thought about.”

Magnus’ heart wrenched with guilt. He pressed a kiss to Alec’s lips and the flames receded.

Alec was here now. They were together. And Magnus wanted to fully live every second they had.

“I want to forget about all of this for a moment,” Magnus said. “Let’s get dressed and I’ll show you the garden Madzie has created.”

Alec brushed his lips over Magnus’ shoulder, then the edges of his wings. “Okay.”

Edom’s diminished sun hung at the top of its arc when they entered the green space running the entire length of one wall of the palace. Just as he had since revealing his true form at the Institute, Magnus left himself unglamoured now. The fight to keep his magic under control had lessened in the last day, as if it had been battling _him_ to break free, but now that Magnus had removed the walls boxing it in, it merely existed as a powerful thrum sliding along his bones.

“Hello, Alec,” Catarina said, as she came to her feet next to Madzie.

Alec smiled. “Hey, Cat.”

Alec dropped to one knee, his wings brushing the flowers surrounding him as he focused on Madzie, lifting seedlings from the rich, earthen soul under her fingertips. “Hi, Madzie.”

Madzie turned at the sound of his voice, surveying him closely and quietly—as Magnus had come to learn was her way—then she tipped her head, her gills expanding before she spoke. “Cool wings.”

“Thank you.”

The smile on Madzie’s face and the blush rising on Alec’s cheeks shifted Magnus’ magic to a gentle brush—matching an emotional state besides anger for once.

“And what about mine, sweetpea?” he teased.

Madzie shrugged, emerald green sprouts pushing out of the soil with her movement.

Magnus scoffed and crossed his arms, but Madzie just giggled and ran off, Damon and Pythias meeting her at the edge of the garden, flanking her on both sides.

Alec brushed the dirt from his knees as he stood again.

“It’s good to see you here,” Cat said to Alec.

“You too. I'm glad—” Alec’s gaze darted to Magnus. “I'm glad you've been here with him.”

She glanced at Magnus knowingly, then reached out with a soft tap to his arm. “I’ll leave you two to catch up.”

When she was out of earshot, Alec turned to him. “She’s the one who told you I was dead?”

“Another warlock delivered the news, but yes she was the one to tell me. What you saw earlier with the flames coming from my hands…?” There was no easy way to explain what had occurred when he'd thought he would never see Alec again. “That day was much worse. And she was there for me. Madzie too.”

Alec swallowed roughly, then focused his attention to the sand, where Madzie played with Damon and Cat as Pythias sunned himself on rocks. “Madzie looks happy.”

“I think she is.”

Alec peered down at him. “You care about her.”

“I did from the moment I met her, but now…. She is my sister.”

“She’s…. Asmodeus is her father?”

Magnus sighed and gestured for them to start walking, leading Alec through the footpaths Madzie had created between sections of plants. “I had hoped no one besides me, Cat, and Madzie would ever know, but Iris confirmed Asmodeus was her father in front of everyone in the Institute.” His brow furrowed. “It's going to be harder to protect her now.”

“But you will,” Alec stated. “She doesn’t have to grow up like you did.”

“She doesn’t,” Magnus confirmed. He had done, and would continue to do, what he needed in order to save her from the rejection and abuse he'd faced. But of course Alec would know immediately that was Magnus’ goal. “Do you want something to eat or drink?”

Alec tipped his head, raising an eyebrow. “I actually haven’t had anything to eat or drink in a week.”

“But you can?”

Alec nodded.

Magnus conjured a table and chairs, filling it with Alec’s usual order from his favorite breakfast place in the Village.

Alec huffed out a laugh and sat down. “Convenient.”

“I couldn’t leave Edom, but I found I could bring things here. That and learning to fly maintained my sanity in the days before Catarina and Madzie got here.”

Magnus sat down across from him, noting the downturn of Alec’s lips as he scanned the table. “Something I missed?”

Alec shook his head. “I can’t see past your wards. It’s…unsettling not feeling Jace or being able to see what’s happening in New York.”

“I’m sorry, Alexander, but I can’t relinquish them. Not until the Soul Sword is destroyed.”

“I get it. You have a lot of people to protect.” Alec reached for a cup of coffee and sipped at it before speaking again. “So tell me, can you destroy the Sword?”

“Technically, destroying it isn't the problem. Dispelling the materials so they can never be reconfigured is the issue. The runes aren't simply burned into the metal, the adamas is infused with them. So it’s a matter of either locating the demon who can completely destroy it, or finding a way to dispose of the remnants in a irreparable fashion.”

“You’ll find a way.”

Alec's tone was sure, but the crease between his eyebrows had deepened as if he was attempting over and over again to reach out for Jace and New York.

“I can portal you home anytime,” Magnus offered.

Alec shook his head, then locked eyes with Magnus. “I’d like to stay one more night with you.”

“Okay,” Magnus agreed. He sat back in his chair and smiled. “But only if you promise to fly with me today.”

The set of Alec’s shoulders eased. “I'd love that.”

 

****

 

Alec tucked his wings in so he could walk next to Magnus, attempting to ignore the pointed stares coming his way as they crossed through the hallways of the palace. “How many people do you have living here now?”

“In the palace, approximately two hundred,” Magnus answered. He held open a door for Alec, and Alec ducked inside, eyeing the rickety spiral staircase that led up farther than he could see. He turned to Magnus and raised an eyebrow, and Magnus merely smirked and started up the staircase, continuing, “As for how many people live outside these walls? I have no idea. It’s impossible to maintain an accurate count when warlock dwellings can pop up and disappear at the emotional will of their occupants. Although, I have to admit that ease of moving does keep neighborly tiffs to a minimum. Then there’s Raphael’s clan who took up residence in the former Shadowhunters’ Hall—a place no warlock wanted to be because most of them are wary of the old runes. And the werewolves claimed a row of houses on the outskirts of the city so they can roam the sand and hunt my demons when they get bored.”

_My demons_. Magnus said that almost…affectionately. At the very least, with pride. Alec hadn’t seen one demon yet, which meant Magnus held them all in check— _millions_ of them, if Meliorn hadn’t been wildly exaggerating. Controlling that many demons was a feat no one else had likely thought much about, yet Alec understood the implications—Magnus was much more powerful than anyone understood.

Perhaps Alec was just as proud of Magnus. Just as affectionate for him. And maybe a bit turned on.

He jumped up the stairs, refocusing on their conversation. “Are there any Seelies here?”

“A few. However, since they attempted to play us against each other, my wards are keeping new residents out.”

“I don’t know what to do with them.”

“The Seelies always pick who they think is the winning side, and since it appears that wasn't you or me…. Whose side are they on?”

“Their own,” Alec answered without hesitation. “They tracked Valentine down using Clary’s blood—so we followed them. Then Meliorn and his knights attempted to take the Mortal Instruments for themselves.”

“ _Attempted_ being the operative word there, correct?” Magnus pushed through another door onto a balcony. “The Queen has to be aware she made a powerful enemy.”

Alec eyed Magnus appreciatively. “You are intimidating.”

“I was talking about you,” Magnus said without missing a beat. He smiled and swept his hand toward the expanse in front of them. “Now, my Nephilim, show me what you can do.”

“You know I can just take off from the ground, right?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Alec stepped onto the railing, his breath quickening just as it did every time he was this far off the ground—an instinctual fear gripping him. He wondered if he’d ever fully rid himself of it.

He glanced over his shoulder at Magnus. “You coming?”

Magnus nodded. “But first, I rather enjoy the view when I watch you leave.”

“You are shameless,” Alec said with a chuckle.

“Some things never change.”

Alec shook his head and faced the city again.

The first time he’d stood on the edge of the Empire State Building, overlooking the streets of New York far below, his stomach had twisted, remembering standing on the ledge of Magnus’ apartment the night Iris had manipulated them so she could steal Magnus’ spell book. That night, he hadn’t faced the street, guilt and dark magic propelling him backwards into a fall that Magnus had rescued him from. Once he had wings, though, he’d faced the precipitous drop—pressure to succeed shutting out all other emotion—and flung himself off the edge, his heart pounding, as he dropped to the ground.

Now, his heart still felt like it was beating out of his chest, but he didn’t have to tumble at all. He could’ve easily taken one step into open air and kept himself aloft. But Magnus was right—where was the fun in that?

“See you out there,” Alec called out and dove headfirst off the tower.

Alec’s stomach dropped from the change in pressure when he sliced his wings out, swooping him into an effortless arc and gaining altitude. Below him, Edom’s capital city glistened with warlock magic—the green of Madzie’s garden, and the vibrancy of a market teeming with Downworlders—and above him the sun fell warm against his back. But there was a new sensation creeping over his skin, a disturbance of air he’d never felt before in flight, and before he could even smile, Magnus swept over him, his stunning wings blotting out the sun as he rocketed past Alec.

Alec pumped his wings, streaking through the sky and twisting himself around, forcing Magnus to change direction. The wind caught Magnus’ wings, spreading them wide and Alec’s heart beat even faster. His visions couldn’t pierce through Magnus’ wards, but he had no trouble seeing within Edom—and every eye on the ground was trained on them.

Magnus led them higher and farther out from the city, the buildings fading away into an endless sea of sand, and Alec settled into the heady rush of slicing through the air, the rhythmic thump of his and Magnus’ wings, then the crashing of their bodies when Magnus pulled them to a stop in mid-flight.

“This, Alexander”—Magnus’ cheeks were reddened from the bite of arid air, and fire danced off his fingertips as he fisted his hands in Alec’s shirt and dragged him closer—“is a whole new kind of foreplay.”

The earth stretched out for miles below them, and the sky circled limitless around them.

Alec heaved in a bracing breath. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough yet to attempt sex at five thousand feet.”

Magnus’ crimson eyes locked onto him and he claimed Alec’s lips in a bruising kiss. “Back home again then.”

Magnus pushed away from him with a grin and took off, sweeping back toward the city and his palace.

Alec was powerless to do anything but follow.

“There wasn’t a balcony here yesterday or this morning,” Alec noted when his feet were on solid ground again.

Magnus shrugged, his wings fluttering with the movement. “You always seemed to love my balcony.”

“I love _you_.”

Magnus’ desperate kiss was all the answer he needed.

He spent the day and night wrapped up in Magnus’ arms, forgetting the rest of the world existed. Ignoring that there was an Institute to run, unavoidable questions from the Clave he’d have to face, communication channels with Downworlders to reinstate, and trust that had to be rebuilt…. He clung to the fleeting, impossible hope that maybe all of that had already been taken care of and they could remain like this forever. But much too soon, the sun rose in Edom again and a portal swirled open behind him. Alec placed one last kiss on Magnus’ lips, sadness washing over him.

“I'll keep working on the Sword,” Magnus said, one hand resting on Alec’s neck, and the other on his back, fingertips brushing against the feathers of Alec’s wings.

Alec leaned into his touch. “Magnus. I—”

“I'll come see you tomorrow. It’s time for me to play King for the day.” Magnus stepped back, a smile on his lips. “And figure out how to reconfigure my wards so you can come and go as you please.”

“Okay. I’ll see you then.”

Alec stepped out of Edom, into the Institute, and cried out, doubling over in pain.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm still avoiding spoilers, so #ascensionfic on twitter if you want to scream at me ♡ xx
> 
> ready?
> 
> here we go....

Alec clutched his arm around his stomach, digging his nails into his parabatai rune. Jace’s gut-wrenching fear and blinding despair burned into his skin and Jace’s thoughts slammed into his head, a tumbling cacophony of words and images Alec couldn’t piece together. After two days of silence, the overload nearly brought him to his knees.

“Alec?” Jace called out, his desperate voice muffled through thick stone walls. “Where are you?”

Alec hunched over and tried to breathe. “What is going on, Jace?” he yelled out through gritted teeth.

Jace barreled into Alec’s bedroom. Blood stained his clothes, deep crimson swaths in places, and Alec sucked in a panicked breath. Jace wasn’t in physical pain, though, so that blood…. All that blood….

His stomach rolled. “What happened?”

Jace grimaced and Luke careened into the room, his jaw clenched and bloodied knuckles flexing. “The Cup is gone.”

Alec’s eyes widened. “What?”

“We didn’t even consider that one of our own would try to steal it,” Jace answered. His voice was so…haunted.

“What are you talking about?” Alec snapped.

“Max’s new trainer—Sebastian—he stole it.”

“Izzy and Maia are out tracking him now.” Luke shook his head. “But we think he’s warded somehow, they’re not having any luck.”

Alec attempted to spread out his visions, to seek out Sebastian, but the images in his head snapped back to the Institute over and over again. “I can’t see him either.” Alec inhaled a steadying breath and stood up, straightening his shoulders. “Why didn’t you get me from Edom?”

Luke glanced at Jace, frowning. “We went to the Seelie Queen to try and get in, but she’s not letting anyone into Edom anymore. She wouldn’t even send a message to Magnus for us.”

“But, Alec…. The Cup isn’t….” Jace took a step toward him and Alec’s rune knifed into his skin.

That blood….

So much blood.

Alec’s throat tightened. “Whose blood is that, Jace?”

Jace stepped up to him, hand circling the back of Alec’s neck. Jace’s sorrow crashed through him like a tidal wave. “Mom is dead. Sebastian attacked her and Luke when he came for the Cup. And Max….”

Tears fell from Alec’s eyes, blurring his vision. “No.”

“He’s alive, Alec, but barely hanging on. If Luke hadn’t been there—” Jace gripped him tighter when Alec’s legs began to shake, and locked eyes with him. “Max needs you.”

His mom was dead. There was nothing he could do for her, but Max….

He’d healed Jace, he could heal Max too.

Alec sucked in a breath and nodded. “Where is he?”

Alec’s head swam as Jace and Luke led him to the infirmary. He’d spent two days in Edom. He’d left the Cup unprotected for two days.

He’d left the people he loved unprotected.

Clary sat at Max’s side, her stele in her hand. Max’s skin was gray against the white sheets, hair matted to his forehead with sweat, black bruising over his face and chest, and the skin around the iratze drawn above Max’s heart snaked out red and angry. His lips parted in a gasp for breath and Alec choked back the sob building in his lungs.

He propelled himself to Max, hovering his hand over Max’s rune just as he’d done dozens of times with Jace, but the rune didn’t activate. Alec inhaled sharply and pressed his entire palm to Max’s fever-hot skin, his dread building when all he felt was the erratic, thin beat of his brother’s heart.

“Jace?”

Jace bent down next to him, and Alec hovered his hand over Jace’s iratze and it flashed to life. Alec lifted his eyes to Jace, realizing, “I can only heal you.” He hadn’t tried to use this power on anyone else. Hadn’t needed to. “Where is Iris?”

Clary brought her stele back to Max’s rune in a motion that looked practiced—as if she’d repeated it for hours, fighting off death but unable to heal him. She shook her head. “Sebastian freed Iris from the cell and took her with him.”

“And the handful of warlocks who didn’t go back to Edom are all too afraid of you and Magnus to help us,” Jace added. “No matter how much money we offer.”

Alec ground his teeth “Where the hell is Dad?”

Jace swallowed roughly. “He said he isn’t coming back unless you hand over the Sword.”

“Mom is dead, Max is dying, and he’s playing politics?” Alec yelled.

Jace grimaced, the heel of his palm digging into his parabatai rune.

Alec closed his eyes. He wouldn’t hurt Jace too. “I need to get back to Magnus. Even if he can’t help Max, there’s Cat, and a whole city of warlocks. The Seelie Queen can’t get us into Edom because of Magnus’ wards, but she can get a message to him—I know that much.”

Jace shook his head. “She closed off the entrance to the Glade in Central Park—”

“Then how the hell am I supposed to get to him?” Alec growled out, his frustration growing.

“We don’t know, Alec,” Luke cut in calmly. “We’ve been trying to figure that out for the last twelve—”

Alec gritted his teeth and lightning flashed outside the stained glass windows. “That answer isn’t acceptable!”

Jace crumpled forward like he’d been punched, and Alec began to stand, to go to Jace, but Clary’s hand wrapped around his wrist and his name passed over her lips in a quiet whisper.

A shiver passed over Alec’s skin as he turned to look at her.

Her eyes fixated onto something he couldn’t see, then she blinked, turned to face the wall and lifted her stele, drawing a rune into the air that Alec had never seen before.

When her hand dropped, a portal swirled open and Clary faced him. “I think this will take you to the Glade. I’ll stay here with Max.”

Alec didn’t hesitate, he strode through the portal and stepped into the Glade with Jace and Luke on his heels.

The Queen bared her teeth at their entrance, an angry, inhuman snarl passing over her lips.

“I need you to summon Magnus now,” Alec demanded.

“As you know,” the Queen said, effortlessly pulling herself back under control, “the King of Edom has warded his kingdom against us.”

“You sent a message to Magnus when I came here, even though he’d already reinforced his wards. You can do it again.”

The Queen tipped her head. “But why would I want to?”

Lightning crackled above them as rage settled into a deathly calm in his bones. “You said there are worse things that can happen than death, and I will ensure every one of those things happens to you.”

A high, tinkling laugh emanated from the Queen’s lips. “Do you forget who holds the King of Edom’s life in her hands?”

Alec shot forward, his fingers circling around her windpipe. “I hold your life in my hand right now.”

The Queen held his gaze. Her throat bobbed under his fingertips. “It’s done.”

Alec didn’t back away, didn’t flinch from her callous stare, until a portal opened up across the Glade and Magnus stepped out. His wings flexed as he took in Alec with his hand still around the Queen’s throat, then Luke and Jace, their clothes covered in blood.

“We’re not done,” Alec growled at the Queen, then faced Magnus, tears forming in his eyes as soon as his back was to her.

Magnus swallowed harshly. “Where do we need to go?”

Alec clenched his jaw. If he opened his mouth right now he was going to lose the little amount of control he did have.

“The Institute,” Jace called out.

Magnus snapped another portal open without hesitation, and Alec, Jace, and Luke followed him through.

 

****

 

“I could spend days healing solely his physical injuries,” Cat said in a hushed voice, leaning in toward Alec and Magnus. “But there’s something else here. A powerful, dark magic at play as well. He needs a much stronger warlock than me.”

Magnus frowned. As soon as he’d seen Max he’d called on Cat for her help, knowing she had more experience with healing than he did, but this didn’t bode well. “I’m better, Cat, but my magic is still unpredictable and this is Max. I can’t risk my instability on him.”

Cat lifted her gaze to him. “I’m not talking about you. We need Madzie.”

“No,” Alec answered immediately. “She can’t leave the protection of Edom.”

“I can’t heal Max, Alec. He _will_ die if she doesn’t come.”

Alec shook his head. “And we risk losing both of them in the process?”

“She would want to do it. You know that.”

Magnus’ stomach tumbled as Alec looked to him and reluctantly nodded. Cat was right. “I’ll go talk to her. Alexander, take this.” He dug inside his pocket, his heart aching as his fingers closed around the omamori Alec had given him. “Cat will show you how to use it to summon me. It will be much more reliable if you need to reach me while I’m in Edom. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Alec clasped onto the omamori and leaned down, kissing him. “Thank you.”

Magnus swirled a portal open and glanced over his shoulder, hesitating. If he, Cat, and Madzie were all going to be in New York, then Simon and Dot were going to need help in Edom. Alec couldn’t be separated from Jace right now, cutting off their bond would cause him too much worry. “Clary, Luke, I can’t bring the Soul Sword back here, but I’ll need someone to watch over it when I return with Madzie.”

Clary got to her feet immediately and Catarina took her spot next to Max’s bed, but Luke just shook his head. “I couldn’t protect the Cup. You don’t want me there.”

He couldn’t forgive Luke for what he’d done to Alec, but according to Alec he’d been the one to save Max’s life. Neither action cancelled out the other—there was no real scale of justice in life. However, Luke had always been a protector. Still was.

Magnus tipped his chin up. “I do.”

Luke nodded and Clary grasped his arm as they followed Magnus through the portal and into the throne room of Edom.

Simon and Madzie were perched on the steps leading up to the throne, a slew of dolls, houses, and toy horses filling the space around them, still occupied with the game the three of them had been playing before he’d been summoned to the Glade.

Simon froze at their sudden appearance with a sparkly purple pony in his hand. “Hey.”

Magnus smiled. “Can I talk to you, Madzie?”

Madzie nodded and met him in the center of the room while Luke and Clary joined a suddenly stoic Simon. Clary embraced Simon and he froze, stunned for a moment, before circling his arms around her too. Luke met Magnus’ eyes and nodded. This was going to be okay.

It had to be.

Magnus dropped to his knees so he could be eye to eye with Madzie. “There’s a Shadowhunter boy in New York who’s very sick. Catarina thinks you may be able to help him, but it’s your choice whether you want to go or not.” Magnus had to fight back the urge to shield her away because he already knew what her answer would be. “If you choose to go, Cat and I will be with you the whole time.”

Madzie’s gills opened on a deep breath. “I want to go.”

Magnus nodded. “So you’re fully aware, the boy is Alec’s little brother and he was attacked.” Madzie’s eyes widened at that and Magnus set his hand on her arm. “The man who hurt him isn’t in the Institute anymore, but I’ll be there to protect you regardless.”

“Or I can make a bubble,” Madzie said with all confidence.

Magnus’ heart ached. “You can.”

He stood and faced Luke, Simon, and Clary. “The Soul Sword is in this room, glamoured. I’ll send a message to Dot to meet you here so she can help in any way if needed. But we have enough warlocks maintaining the wards now that I don’t expect any problems.” He took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Magnus.” Clary smiled. “Good luck, Madzie.”

He gripped Madzie’s hand and opened another portal, leading her through to the Institute’s infirmary.

Alec stepped away from Max’s bed when they appeared, making room for Madzie to stand next to Max, and Magnus crossed to his side immediately, grasping Alec’s hand.

Madzie’s steps faltered as she approached the bed, her gills and shoulders lifting with a deep breath.

“Don’t try to do anything yet, Madzie,” Magnus instructed. “Just reach out with your magic and assess.”

“Like we’ve been doing with the plants,” Cat said with a gentle smile.

Madzie nodded, a wave of blue emanating from her hands. Her brow furrowed and a deep frown marred her face. Jace’s features matched her own as he stepped away from the bed and let her work.

Minutes passed in silence, then Madzie faced the palm of one of her hands toward Magnus. “Is this what I’m looking for?”

Magnus let go of Alec’s hand and kneeled down next to Madzie.

A wave of revulsion passed through him when he tapped into what she was feeling. This was the most insidious of dark magic, and he recognized the texture and tone of it immediately. He looked up at Alec. “Delvos. The warlock I banished.”

Alec clenched his jaw and lightning flashed outside the Institute.

Jace scrubbed his hands through his hair. “No wonder we can’t find Sebastian. He has _two_ warlocks working with him.”

Magnus stitched his eyebrows together and looked to Jace. “You didn’t see Delvos here?”

“I only saw the…aftermath. I tried to help mom while Luke worked on Max.”

Alec began to pace, the lightning outside striking with more force, shaking the windows.

Jace winced. “Alec….”

Cat surveyed the two of them then leaned into Magnus, whispering. “Their bond?”

Magnus nodded and lifted his eyes to Alec. “Alexander. Removing this curse is going to be very delicate.”

“I know, but—”

“You need to go,” Magnus insisted. Because of his remote visions, Alec had the ability to see how Max was doing _and_ remain at a distance. Right now, the manifestation of his grief would only make healing Max more difficult.

Alec swiped the tears from his eyes and stalked out of the infirmary.

Jace clasped Magnus’ shoulder. “I’ve got him.”

Magnus watched them leave, his heart breaking for Alec. He couldn’t give Alec his mother back, but he could help save Max.

“Are you ready to try, Madzie?”

She nodded and sat on the bed next to Max.

Magnus fed her strength when her magic wavered and Cat recited incantations that slipped past Madzie’s lips as if she’d been saying them for years. At some point, Izzy and Maia returned, leaving them water and sponging off the sweat on Max’s forehead, but Magnus was only dimly aware of their presence, all of his focus on the synchronous flow of magic between he and Madzie. For the first time in months, Magnus’ magic slid peacefully under his skin, still just as powerful, but as if it was an unrelenting tide and not a churning ocean. Magnus closed his eyes and settled into the entwined push and pull of his and Madzie’s magic, a ceaseless force that grasped at the curse inside Max and began to tear it free. Magnus steeled himself and drew the curse inside his veins, absorbing the pain and allowing his magic to burn it away.

“Will he be okay?” Madzie whispered.

Magnus shivered and opened his eyes. “What do you think?”

Madzie hunched forward, a sleepy smile on her lips. “I think he will.”

“Me too.” Magnus stood and tucked his wings back. He gathered her into his arms so she could rest her head on his shoulder. “Let’s get you home.”

“I want to tell Alec that Max is better.”

Magnus held tighter to her. “Okay.”

Izzy lifted her reddened eyes from Max to Madzie. “Thank you.”

Madzie was already half-asleep in his arms, but she managed a mumbled _you’re welcome_ that left Magnus’ heart aching with love.

“Alec’s at the school,” Maia said to Magnus. “If you’re okay to make a portal, I can take you there.”

Cat looked up at him then. “I’ll stay here with Max for now and continue to heal his physical injuries.”

Magnus nodded and weakly stirred open a portal, Maia’s hand on his arm as she led them towards it.

Madzie’s heart beat steadily against his chest, and Magnus wanted, needed, to get her inside the safety of Edom, but he could make this one stop first for her. There was no place safer for her than with a King of Hell and an Angel.

But when they stepped into the glass-encased room, Alec was huddled in the corner, his knees tucked to his chest and lightning striking the floor around him—slashing through his wings, blackening the feathers. And Jace writhed in pain at Alec’s feet, blood pouring from his ears and nose.

Fear slammed into Magnus and he gripped Madzie tighter.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another hiatus.... *sigh*
> 
> well, we still have three weeks of #ascensionfic and five chapters of #itsb, right?
> 
> let's hope the months pass by with the utmost swiftness ♡ xx

“What the fuck?” Maia swore and raced toward them, but the crashing lightning drove her back.

Magnus sucked in a breath. “Madzie, do you think you can make a bubble?”

“What’s wrong with them?” Madzie asked, her voice strained.

Magnus poured his magic into her, draining himself so she would have the strength to protect herself. He kept his voice calm despite the increasing thump of his heart. “I don’t know, sweetpea. But I need you to make a bubble now.”

He set Madzie on her feet and she lifted her barrier immediately. Magnus placed himself between her and Alec, dread building in his stomach as he surveyed the scene in front of him.

The flow of blood from Jace’s ears and nose wasn’t quite as grave as Magnus had first thought. Still dangerous, but possibly not fatal. Tears poured down Alec’s cheeks and his chest heaved with gasping breaths. His gaze locked to Magnus’ and he inhaled a shuddering breath, a torrent of lightning surging around him.

Magnus braced himself for the pain and stepped forward. “Did someone attack you?”

Alec shook his head. “It’s _me_. I can’t—” He clenched his teeth. “I’m hurting Jace. I’m hurting them _all_.”

Magnus restrained a wince as a bolt of lightning shredded through one of his wings.

“Magnus.” Alec choked back a sob. “I’m hurting you.”

With Alec’s focus on him instead of Jace, Maia dashed forward and yanked Jace out of the storm, pulling him into her lap and swiping the blood from his skin.

“I’m okay, Alec,” Jace rasped out. “I’m okay.”

Alec dug his fingers into his skin until his knuckles turned white, clutching his arms over his stomach. “I know you’re lying!”

More lightning slashed down and Magnus stilled as he realized….

Their bond was acting like a never-ending feedback loop—pain for pain, growing in intensity. Grief over the loss of their mother, worry for their brother, guilt for their failures, anger at Sebastian…. _No_. Fury. Their rage called out to the flickering remnants of Magnus’ magic, calling it to the surface unbidden.

He glanced over his shoulder as he sensed movement, wincing when he realized that Madzie had relinquished her bubble and was leaning over Jace.

“Madzie!” Magnus warned.

Another bolt slammed into his shoulder, tearing into him. As the singeing sear of his own flesh hit his nose, fire surged out of his fingertips. He needed to get Madzie out of here, but he couldn’t leave Alec, Jace, or Maia. He inhaled deeply, fighting against the darkness licking over his skin.

If he couldn’t get Jace and Alec under control, then his magic could destroy them all.

“Both of you need to calm down,” Magnus pleaded. He fought to contain his magic, sucking in deep breaths. Each ragged inhale tasted of sulphur. “I know you’re both hurting, but you’re making this worse for each other.”

Alec curled his decimated wings over his head, and the lightning streaked around him, bouncing off the floor to arc back into him. More bolts crashed into Magnus, and Jace grunted in pain as sparks sizzled across the floor into him, curving to slash into Madzie too, a whimper passing over her lips.

Magnus’ stomach plummeted at the sound and the tiled floor under his feet began to crack. He whirled around, facing Alec again. A thought flitted through his head, just out of reach, his synapses firing and begging him to grasp hold of the thought and understand.

There was something here. Something important. Something he was missing….

The lightning assaulted Alec, Jace, Madzie and himself. But each strike left Maia untouched.

As if it sought out angelic blood—even fallen angelic blood.

Magnus gritted his teeth. Later. He’d have to think about that later.

While it normally would’ve taken him days to recover from draining himself so thoroughly, his magic roared under his skin now, clamoring to break free. Magnus bit back the urge to destroy and lifted his hands, channeling his connection to Madzie and forcing out the spell to seclude each of them—Alec, Jace, Madzie, Maia, and himself—inside individual protective bubbles. The lightning continued to strike, but bounced ineffectually off the barriers.

Magnus sagged in relief, then Madzie whispered his name. Magnus’ heart ached as he looked to her, afraid.

Madzie shook her head. “Don’t.”

Magnus shivered at the strength in her voice.

“I need to get to them,” she insisted. She was so young, but not naive. Not weak. “Please, Magnus.”

Magnus swallowed harshly and dropped the barriers around everyone except himself. Madzie leaned over Jace, closing her eyes. Waves of blue poured from her hands, enveloping Jace then streaking around Magnus, flooding over his barrier and around him. A chill passed over his skin.

Her magic surrounded Alec and he gasped, his eyes widening. The lightning storm increased in intensity, blinding Magnus with a white surge and violently crashing into his protective bubble. He desperately gulped in air, the oxygen thinning in his self-built walls as it filled with sulphur. Tears streaked down his cheeks as he fought for breath and to hold his barrier….

…Then silence.

Magnus’ magic receded like a coiled whip, snapped back into place. He slammed his barrier away and dropped to his knees, sucking in ozone tinged breaths. Alec’s hands settled on him immediately as Alec collapsed at his side. Magnus blindly reached out for him, grasping Alec’s arm.

Magnus swiped at his eyes and focused on Alec. “Are you okay?”

Alec clenched his jaw. “Are _you_?”

Magnus nodded weakly. At least his magic wasn’t a threat to them anymore.

“What was that?” Jace rasped out. He held his fingertips to his parabatai rune, the gold edging faded to a dull yellow against his skin.

Magnus had no idea. He looked to Madzie. “What did you do to them?”

Her brows stitched together as she stood up. “I don’t know.”

Magnus gripped Alec’s hand to reassure him, then stood, wincing with the pain that tore through his abused shoulder. He ignored the burning ache and closed his eyes, tentatively extending out his magic to assess. He furrowed his brow as he realized what she’d done. “That’s my ward. The one protecting Edom.”

She’d cut off, or at the very least diminished, the connection between Jace and Alec using his ward—the ward built to keep Alec out.

Magnus’ stomach clenched with a sickening flip as the pieces clicked into place. He turned to face Alec. “It’s not you who’s possessed, it’s Jace.”

Alec stumbled to his feet. “What?”

“Your souls aren’t just tied together anymore, your’s is taking Jace’s over,” Magnus answered with surety. He pushed his senses deeper, confirming what his magic was telling him. “It’s as if you’re trying to…force him into ascending with you.”

Alec opened his mouth as if to speak, then grimaced.

“I’m sorry, Alexander. The only permanent solution I can think of is to completely sever your parabatai connection.”

“Or for me to drink from the Cup.” Jace lifted his eyes to Alec. “I’ve already seen it. And I don’t survive.”

Pain sliced across Alec’s features. “Jace. Why didn’t you—?”

“Tell you?” Jace pointed at Alec. “Because of _that_ look. There’s no way to be sure what I’ve seen is actually visions of the future.”

“That _doesn’t_ have to be what happens,” Alec insisted.

Jace chuckled darkly as he rolled his shoulders. “Believe me, I’m good with that vision changing too.”

“Fuck,” Alec swore and stalked away.

Magnus warily eyed Alec then focused on Madzie. “See what you can do to help Jace heal. Maia, are you okay?”

Maia nodded. “I’m fine. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

He swirled open a portal. He had to ensure she was safe. “Return to the Institute and let Catarina know what happened. Madzie and I will work on Jace and Alec.”

Maia got to her feet and stepped through without hesitation.

As soon as the portal snapped closed behind her, Magnus headed for Alec. Like before, his magic was already rebuilding at a rapid pace, the ache in his shoulder and his wings easing as it gathered and stitched the torn flesh together again.

“Let me help you,” he said to Alec, reaching out for him.

Alec’s chin tipped up as he fought back tears, his hands stationed on his hips. The charred bones of his wings stood out in stark relief against the remaining white feathers.

“Please, Alexander.”

Alec swallowed roughly and Magnus drew Alec into his arms, closing his eyes, holding tight and seeping tendrils of his magic into Alec.

Alec buried his face in Magnus’ neck and sagged into Magnus’ arms, his tears slick against Magnus’ skin.

Magnus tried to hold his magic back, to keep it contained in a way that would heal Alec and not harm him, but the more he tried to restrain it, the darker it felt. He shuddered, shivered, and forcibly pushed back his fear.

Alec was an angel. A being borne of heavenly blood and ascended to his rightful place.

He could bear the full force of Magnus’ magic.

Magnus settled his palms against Alec’s back, fingertips on Alec’s wings. He kissed Alec’s head. “I’m sorry if this hurts.”

Alec gripped him tighter. “I trust you.”

Magnus let go then, flooding Alec in a sea of red and Alec cried out. Magnus’ heart pounded against his chest and he held on, fighting off his fear and allowing his magic to surge unchecked. The red flickered, sparked, then shifted into flames of ice blue against Alec’s body and snaps of red sputtering into the crackling air. His vision blurred, his legs shook, but he wouldn’t let Alec go. He poured his love for Alec into the healing flames, his breath stuttering when he felt Alec’s soul pressing against his own, feeding his strength—angel blood calling out to the remnants of heaven in Magnus’ veins and drawing it to the surface.

Magnus gasped as the flames surged into gold and Alec’s wings spread, snapping out unmarked and whole.

“You’re okay, Alexander,” Magnus gasped out as Alec stumbled. “You’re okay.”

Alec’s hands slid to Magnus’ hips and his breaths came in harsh pants as he rested his cheek against Magnus’. “I’ve never felt anything like that.”

Magnus sucked in a steadying breath and closed his hand around the back of Alec’s neck. He hadn’t either.

Alec rubbed his cheek over Magnus’, nosing Magnus’ face to the side until his lips found Magnus’, drawing him into a kiss that replenished Magnus’ strength just as much as it weakened his knees.

Alec drew back and brushed his fingers through Magnus’ hair, a tired smile on his lips. “I’m giving you gray hairs.”

Magnus heart slammed against his chest and he gripped Alec’s wrist. “What did you just say?”

Alec’s eyes widened, his skin paling. “The Seelie Queen….”

But before Magnus could think of what he had to do next—his only hope for saving himself—Jace staggered to his feet, his jaw set. “I’ve seen this. This _exact_ scene. We need to get to Edom _now_.”

 

****

 

Alec’s chest tightened with abject terror. The Seelie Queen had claimed her price and Magnus’ immortality was draining away. When it was gone, he’d be dead. And Jace…. Jace had envisioned his own death too.

Alec had already lost his mom. He couldn’t lose Magnus or Jace.

He just couldn’t.

He had to move. He had to do _something_.

“How long do you have?” Alec asked Magnus.

Magnus was staring at his hands. “I don’t know. Hours?” He lifted his eyes to Alec. The lines around his downturned lips were more pronounced. “Maybe.”

Sorrow washed through Alec. He could barely speak. “There has to be something we can do.”

“There is,” Magnus said as he nodded. “I need to go see the Seelie Queen. I…rigged the contract with her. I suppose you could call it one last gift from my father.”

Alec searched his eyes. “But?”

“But there’s no guarantee it will work.”

“You need to get to her then,” Alec said, spreading out his visions and seeking the Queen. “Jace and I will take Madzie back to Edom—”

Alec’s voice cut off as he scanned the Glade, then spread his remote visions farther, concentrating his thoughts on the Seelie Queen, and coming back with…nothing.

Magnus frowned. “What is it?”

“I can’t see her. And it's not like it was with Sebastian when my visions kept snapping back on me.”

Magnus shook his head. “If you can’t see her—”

Alec growled. “Then she’s in Edom.”

“ _I_ didn’t see her there,” Jace interjected and Alec turned to face him. “ She wasn't in any of my visions.”

It was unsettling not being able to feel Jace like he had for weeks now, but there was still a flicker of Jace’s presence in his head. Muted but no less obvious. Fear. Cold, unrelenting dread.

“Why did you say we needed to get to Edom?” Alec asked his parabatai.

“It’s Clary….” Jace grimaced. “It’s too much to explain right now, but we need to get to Edom before Sebastian gets there.”

Alec stiffened and looked at Magnus. “How could he or the Seelie Queen get past your wards?”

“I don’t know.” Magnus snapped back his shoulders and flung a portal open with a flick of his fingers. “Looks like we’re all going there, though.”

Alec crossed the room and swooped Madzie into his arms, focusing on her. Her cries of pain when he’d lost control had torn him apart more than the lightning. “Are you okay?”

She nodded and clung to him. “And Max is too.”

“I saw. Thank you.” Alec stared at her in awe. This child…. How could she be so young? She was more giving and stronger than most adults he’d ever known. She made him hope. “And thank you for helping Jace and me.”

“I’ll keep up the ward until we can fix this.”

 _This_.

A parabatai bond that was killing Jace.

Alec swallowed roughly and met Magnus’ eyes. “Let’s go.”

Alec crossed through with Madzie, behind Jace and Magnus, his spine straightening and wings snapping back. A heavy foreboding sat in his gut as they walked into Edom.

Jace was already sprinting across the wide room and Magnus had his hands up, flames sparking off his fingertips.

In front of an ancient wooden throne Clary lay unconscious, Luke cradling her in his lap.

“Sebastian was already here,” Alec said.

“And the Sword is gone,” Magnus spit out.

“He injected something into Clary, then he took Simon and Dot and he left me….” Luke peered up at them, fear in his eyes. “He left me to deliver a message.”

Jace huddled over Clary. His hands shook as he lifted her eyelids. “We’re already too late.”

Alec held on to Madzie and stepped closer to the throne. Clary’s green eyes had been completely swallowed up by black. The empty black of a demon.

“What is the message?” Magnus asked.

Luke winced. “She’s the demonic Morgenstern.”

Jace rocked back on his heels, running his fingers through his hair. “She's the only one who can destroy the Soul Sword.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on tumblr @otppurefuckingmagic or twitter @authorsamcauley ♡ xx


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